


Fight Like a Girl

by Asexual_Ravioli



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bullying, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, High School, Homophobia, Past drug addiction (of minor character), Slow Burn, Sparring, Strong Female Characters, muay thai
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2019-06-22 23:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 101,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15593496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asexual_Ravioli/pseuds/Asexual_Ravioli
Summary: If Annie's own life could be so unrealistic, she was sure she’d be a lot happier.Trost High senior Annie Leonhardt is an outcast only interested in anime, manga, and being left the hell alone. Until her old enemy Mikasa Ackerman—the school’s most perfect, most overachieving, most aggravating cheer captain—crosses paths with her once more. Featuring obscure anime, fluff, angst, and a Muay Thai Fight Club.





	1. Uneven

**Author's Note:**

> [And now there's art by the fabulous Nenekantoku](https://erurink.tumblr.com/post/178435641337/fight-like-a-girl-a-mikannie-fic-if-annies-own) <3  
> [ Nene's tumblr](https://nenekantoku.tumblr.com/) and [her Twitter](https://twitter.com/nenekantoku)  
>  *****Do NOT repost Nene's art to other websites *****
> 
>  

_It was the letting go that was the problem._

_Her lithe body gained momentum, swinging straight in its path around the lower bar. But when she let go, hands open to grab the highest, they caught nothing, gripping around a terror of empty air. Her body would plummet to the ground. Sometimes she’d land on her belly, sometimes her back. But it was all the same in the end, and Annie couldn’t decipher what drove the girl to fall and curse and get back up again and again. Of course, Annie had seen what had occurred in their freshman gym class that same day. Mikasa had mastered everything in their gymnastics course. But the uneven bars…they had thrown her down with a thud. She laid there stunned, as if unsure how she’d gotten there._ As if, _Annie thought,_ she couldn’t believe she hadn’t dominated something on her first try _. There’d even been laughter as she woozily lifted herself up._ Not used to disdain from other girls _, Annie thought._ Not at all.

_Now they were alone together, late after school. Only Mikasa was there by choice, Annie in a corner refilling basketballs with air until they bounced high—a special detention granted by their gym teacher after he’d heard Annie grumbling something profane. The room was set up with gymnastics equipment: the long runway to the vault, the rings that hung from the high ceiling, the parallel bars that laid dusted with chalk. And then, the uneven bars. Occupied by none other than Mikasa Ackerman._

_She was ripping her hands open, blood staining the lower bar where she gripped. Annie wanted to tell her to stop, but it wasn’t really her place to interfere. Annie watched, neglecting the basketball in her hands, as Mikasa for the thousandth time hung from the bar, swung to give herself enough momentum, her body swinging around and around in perfect circles, and that moment when she let go, flying toward the higher bar, just missing it. Falling to the ground._

_On her knees. She grunted, slamming her forearm into the ground, then looked up, glaring at the bar she couldn’t reach despite all her effort._

_Annie let the ball slip from her hands and stood, walking swiftly over to Mikasa. “Hey,” she said. “Let me see your hands.”_

_Mikasa looked shocked, apparently unaware of her being watched. Annie grabbed her by both wrists, examining the blisters and the blood._

_“Stop being stupid,” Annie said. “Quit for today.”_

_Mikasa wrenched her hands away. “I can do it!”_

_“Not today. Not now,” Annie said. “Let it go, and get some rest. You’ll get it when you’re fresh.”_

_Mikasa appeared full of doubt, something that didn’t suit her usual stubborn temperament. And then, Annie realized, it looked like Mikasa was about to cry, biting her lip and casting her eyes downward._

_“I have to do this,” she whispered._

_“Why is this so important to you?”_

_“Because I’m perfect. I’m supposed to be…” Mikasa seemed surprised by her own words._

_Annie looked up at the bars. “That really pisses me off.” And it did. Perfect? How could somebody have their head so far up their ass that they’d think they did everything perfect? “You’re not perfect. At all. Look at your hands.”_

_“I—”_

_“Look. At your hands.”_

_Mikasa held up her hands and looked, as if seeing the raw wounds for the first time._

_“Oh.”_

_“Are those perfect hands? Or hands of a fucking crazy person? Wash your hands and go home, Mikasa. And, I dunno, bandage them or something. Just get out of my sight.”_

_Mikasa nodded mutely. Weird. Annie had been prepared for more of a fight._

_And then Mikasa said it. “Thank you. Annie. I think most people…wouldn’t have stopped me.” And she left._

_Annie shook her head and went back to pumping up the basketballs. She still had a ways to go. She didn’t know what to make of the strange encounter, so she put it out of her mind._

Annie didn’t want to be late for the first day of her last year of high school. She shoved a piece of half-burnt toast in her mouth, said goodbye to her sister, and ran out the door before she realized the cliché. How many dozens of anime could she name where the plucky protagonist rushed to school with a mouthful of toast?

 _Therein lies the problem,_ Annie thought. _That I can name dozens of anime in the first place._

Because Annie Leonhardt was a bit…into it. Not that she advertised her preferences. Far from it. She had long ago guessed that most of the people in this tiny town didn’t know the fantasy of high tech gundams fighting over Tokyo or pink-haired school girls transforming from their plain selves into beautiful, shining, ribbon-clad magical girls. But Annie knew. She loved it. All of it. And for a long time she’d lived with the thought that no one could ever know.

It could easily be labelled an obsession. How often had she stayed up ‘til four in the morning, eyes raw from staring at the glow of her laptop, only to get up at seven to shower and walk to school? Still, she managed to get mostly A’s in class. At least in the last couple of years…

She walked at a fast clip as she shoved the last chunk of toast into her mouth. This year would be good. Her backpack was heavy with flyers. Her head was in the right place. This year, Annie Leonhardt was going to make friends.

 

Trost High buzzed with students who already wanted to go home. Annie picked her way through the crowds. She was several minutes early. Of course she was. She had to talk to Mr. Smith.

He was out in the hallway, as he usually was, chatting with students before class began. The most popular math teacher she’d ever known. Blonde and blue-eyed, Annie could have been his daughter.

“Weird thought,” she muttered to herself as she approached him. They were nothing alike. He was tall, beautiful, charming. Annie was well over a foot shorter than him, unseemly in general, and irritable at best. Some of these things she could change, but who had the time? These thoughts faded as Mr. Smith began speaking to her.

“Hey, Annie!” he said with his heart-stopping, perfect grin.

“Hey, Mr. Smith.” Her eyes darted away from his. For as long as she’d known him, she was still kind of nervous around him.

“Any plans for this school year?”

“Ditching first period, mostly.”

“First…” Then his eyes lit up. “You’d better not. It’s a small class. And I’d take it as a personal insult.”

Annie smiled and pushed up her glasses. “I uh…I have the flyers.”

“That’s great! Can I see them?”

Annie looked around and shook her head. Too many people. “Maybe later.”

“Okay. Hey, Levi! How was your summer?”

She glanced behind her. The short, angry janitor was stalking up to Mr. Smith.

“Hmph,” he said, pushing away the black bangs that hung in his face. “Peaceful. But some kid’s already thrown up down the hall. Can’t freaking believe…”

Mr. Smith continued to talk to the man, almost forgetting Annie until he put a hand on her shoulder and said, “See you in class, kiddo.”

His classroom walls were, as usual, coated in inspirational math posters. It was a well-kept secret among his students that a few posters had formulas on them that could help on his infamously hard tests. As such, the prized seats were ones against the wall, nearest them. But Annie sat front and center, as she had done since her first class with Mr. Smith last year.

Annie wasn’t good at math, had struggled at it since kindergarten, but she wanted to be better ever since meeting Mr. Smith freshman year. With how poor her grades had been, she’d have taken any motivation and had indeed clawed her way up into his trig class junior year, the lowest level math course he had to offer.

She had made it. What’s more, this year’s class would be way easier than trig. “History of Math.” It was a sort of reward offered to advanced math students, the ones that were fascinated by equations and theorems. Annie had only gotten in by Mr. Smith’s special recommendation.

The class was small: eight students so far. Sasha Braus and Connie Springer sat in the back, already flirting and giggling, sharing a family-sized bag of Doritos. Annie had been in elementary school with the two, who had been glued to each other since diaper days. She was surprised they were here. Sure, they were better at math than her, but Annie didn’t like to think that they—the girl who routinely ate paste and crayons through second grade and the boy who pooped himself in the fourth grade (twice)—were so much smarter than her.

Those two wouldn’t be a problem. However…behind her sat a cluster of douchebags, the ones that wouldn’t leave Annie alone. Hannah Diamant and Mina Carolina, two cheerleaders, the first a redhead with a nasty personality, and then her shy, doe-eyed best friend. Annie was unsure why Mina would hang out with Hannah. Mina had always seemed to be a kind person, albeit one with no backbone.

Franz, a popular football player, sat behind them. Annie wondered when he and Hannah would finally get together. Of course, that might never happen thanks to…

Thanks to Hitch Dreyse, sitting right beside him. Annie read the steamed look on Hannah’s face, guessing she’d wanted that seat. But Hitch had it, and had Franz’s attention. She talked to him now with that knowing, smirky smile, flaunting her perfectly wavy brown hair.

“Of course I don’t know why _she’s_ here,” Hitch said, locking her mischievous green eyes on Annie.

Annie gave her a bored stare, then turned back around to open her notebook and draw something.

“Whatever,” Hitch said. Annie heard Hannah and Franz laugh. She imagined Mina pretending to smile at the casual cruelty of her friends. Hitch changed topics, saying in a low voice, “Do you think Ymir’s in this class?”

“Shh,” Hannah said with a giggle.

A low voice, but by design not low enough. Annie didn’t have to look back. In almost the back corner, all by herself, sat Historia Reiss, the fallen from grace captain of the cheerleaders. The tiny blonde probably sat pretending to read the book she was usually buried in, frightened blue eyes frozen to the page as she listened.

“Well, not likely,” Hannah answered. True enough. Ymir wasn’t known as a conscientious student ever since she’d transferred to their school last year. She was a bad girl to rival even Annie’s loner reputation. The real deal. And every bit opposite of the good girl Historia. That’s why it was so shocking when the two were, by some accounts, discovered in the bathroom together in a scandalous position featuring very few articles of clothing.

Annie sighed to herself. It was all anyone talked about anymore despite it having happened almost a year ago. Historia had become unusually withdrawn, losing herself even more in the thick fantasy novels she’d always carried. Of course, she quit cheer in a hurry and, worst of all in Annie’s mind, didn’t seem to interact with Ymir anymore. But maybe that was for the best: Ymir got busted drunk in class shortly after news of their fling broke out. After her suspension, she turned up even less than usual.

In her notebook, Annie drew quick caricatures of everyone in class from memory. She wasn’t surprised that six of the people in her class were female, given the visual appeal of the teacher. But she honestly didn’t feel the things for Mr. Smith that the others might. He was kind to her. As lame is it was, he may have been the only friend she’d made at Trost High. Him and the nurse, maybe.

Annie shook herself from these pathetic realities when the bell rang, Mr. Smith walking in. He wasted no time in handing out the syllabuses. Annie didn’t worry: Mr. Smith could make the nutrition panel on a cereal box interesting.

But something was wrong. _Am I in the wrong class?_  In big bold letters at the top of her syllabus were the words “Honors Integrated History and Application of Math.”

Mr. Smith began talking about the self-directed history they’d get into. There wouldn’t exactly be a set schedule. It was up to them to learn and apply topics like encryption, the Fibonacci sequence, and calculus. There would be a lot of projects and presentations testing their skills but very few written exams. Annie flipped through the syllabus in a panic.

“Mr. Smith,” she interrupted, her hand shooting up after the fact. “I thought this was supposed to be a history class? An easy one?”

Someone tittered behind her.

“That’s my other class, History of Math.”

“What?” Sasha whispered loudly to Connie. “You said this was the easy A.”

“History of Math is…what I signed up for,” Annie said.

“I recommended you for this one,” he said coolly.

“That’s not fair!”

“We’ll talk about this after class,” he said, a sudden edge to his voice that made her shut up and sit back in her chair. Mr. Smith continued as if her embarrassing outburst hadn’t happened.

“And my TA should get here soon…” he went on, glancing at the clock at the back of the room.

The classroom door opened.

“Sorry I’m late,” Mikasa Ackerman said, flashing a slight, apologetic smile. She wore her hair slightly shorter than last year, her deep black locks tapering to just below her ears. Nothing like Annie’s mess of blonde hair tied back in a sloppy bun. As she walked by, Annie looked her up and down. Mikasa’s muscular form was displayed by a tight black t-shirt tucked neatly into her black skinny jeans. Annie crossed her arms, lanky at best, though they were hidden by the sleeves of the grey unicorn hoodie she wore almost as much as Mikasa wore that stupid red scarf. Mikasa blinked her pretty grey eyes at Annie, just for a second, then looked away, as if embarrassed. Every inch of her was perfected. Annie could hardly stand the sight of her.

As Mikasa took the desk to her right, Annie scowled, pushing up the thick-framed glasses that constantly slid down her nose.

“Mikasa Ackerman will be assisting me,” Mr. Smith said. Annie detected a fondness in his voice. She sunk lower in her seat. “Mikasa, tell us about yourself.”

Mikasa bit her lip. “Um. I’m…on the cheer team?”

Annie could practically hear Hitch Dreyse bristling. Mikasa wasn’t just _on_ the cheer team. She was the captain. And everyone knew that being cheer captain was nearly a birthright for a Dreyse girl. Her mother had done it, her older sister Maddie had done it before graduating two years ago, and her eldest sister, Riley Dreyse had been a legend: cheer captain since freshman year, homecoming queen, prom queen, and valedictorian by the end. Must have stung Hitch she couldn’t be any of those things with Mikasa around. Annie always comforted herself with that thought.

Mr. Smith chuckled, bringing Annie out of her reverie. “Okay, Mikasa. But how about math stuff?”

“Oh,” Mikasa said, hiking her scarf up to her mouth. “Last year I led the math team with Armin Arlert.”

“And?” Mr. Smith said.

“And went to state?”

Mr. Smith nodded. “Did fairly well if I remember. Mikasa finished AP Calc BC last year. She can help you all with any of the more challenging calculus projects we’ll do.”

 _More challenging calculus projects._ Annie hadn’t taken a calc class in her life. She pinched the bridge of her nose and kept quiet. She’d talk to him after class. The curriculum, the other students, the TA…it wasn’t what she’d signed up for by a long shot.

Class dragged on as Mr. Smith explained the topics they could research and present on. Annie had expected she’d be taking history notes from a lecture, something she was good at. But it was less him presenting than it was the students researching and presenting. With a heavy focus on advanced math. With a partner. The material was all over Annie’s head, and the prospect of partnering up wasn’t great either. Even Connie and Sasha groaned in the background.

Annie thought quickly. Sasha and Connie would be partners. Hannah, Mina, Hitch, and Franz would work together. That left Historia. Annie felt bad that she’d be pushing all the work on her. She was nice. But nice enough to not fight back. Exactly what Annie needed if she ended up trapped in this class.

When the bell rang, Annie stood and watched everyone leave: Connie and Sasha already talking about lunch, Hitch and her gang gossiping in laughs and whispers, Historia rushing out with her head down, books clutched to her chest. Only Mikasa wouldn’t budge from her seat. A pseudo-showdown occurred, one where Mikasa didn’t look up from her syllabus, clearly waiting for Annie to disappear.

Mr. Smith, sensing the weird tension, shuffled some papers on his desk, trying to look busy but only succeeding in being awkward.

Annie finally approached him. “Mr. Smith, I want out. Get me into the easy class. I don’t care if it changes my whole schedule.”

“Annie, like I said, I didn’t recommend you for that class. You got an A in my class last year. I know you can do this.”

“I haven’t taken calc!” she said.

Mr. Smith shrugged. “I’ll cut you some slack on the calc projects. It shouldn’t take you long to get up to speed if someone helps you. After all, you’ll have a partner.”

“Historia’s good at calc?”

“Historia? Actually…” Mr. Smith said, “she’d rather work alone. I was thinking,” he mused, glancing past her.

Annie didn’t have to look back. “No. It’s not too late to get into the other class.”

Mr. Smith looked at her evenly.

“Is it?” she backtracked.

He sighed. “I’d rather you be here. You’ll learn more and have more fun. With Mikasa helping you, you shouldn’t have any problems.”

Annie let out a small laugh. She had quite a few problems with Mikasa.

 

_By the winter of her freshman year, Annie felt paper thin. New deceptions about her were weaved every day. Sitting through class she was plagued by the other students staring, talking, laughing. The cafeteria was always worse: thinking about how she used to sit with those two, glancing over to see the tallest looking back at her, remembering him bending to meet her on her doorstep…_

_She was tired of eating her lunch in the bathroom, not that she ever felt hungry. With nowhere to go, Annie turned to her standby: the nurse who didn’t give a fuck about students ditching class as long as they had some excuse. Well. Suddenly Annie had a huge headache. She walked down to the nurse’s office and stood at the door, preparing herself to look as sick as possible, not that it would fool him by now. Before she could put her hand on the knob, the door opened inward, revealing the hugely tall man who didn’t look anything like a nurse._

_“Hey…Nurse Mike?”_

_That’s what everyone called him. Nurse Mike sniffed and looked down at her through dirty blonde bangs. He sighed. “I thought I’d go have my lunch early today…”_

_“Oh…sorry. I’m uhh…”_

_“Headache? Stomach ache? As long as it’s something that’ll get magically better and won’t require an ambulance.”_

_Annie nodded. It was becoming clear that he didn’t even need to hear her excuse at this point._

_“Go lie down.”_

_He walked in with her. Her small, well-lit sanctuary had a couple chairs and a messy desk up front, covered in half-drunk mugs of cold coffee and paperwork. Lining the walls were white cabinets loaded with whatever medical equipment a small school needed, and in the corner sat a small bed covered with fresh white linens._

_“Wait,” Nurse Mike said. Annie froze halfway to the bed, feeling caught. “You don’t want to go home this time, do you?”_

_“Um? No?” She turned to him to see him give a relieved smile._

_“Great. Then I’d have to take your temperature and call your parents. Kind of a hassle. I’ll just write you a pass for when you feel better.” He bent over his desk and scribbled a quick note. Handing it to Annie, he was out the door before she stuffed it in her pocket. Alone, she stared at the bed. As usual she didn’t feel like sleeping. If no one was here…_

_She pulled out her laptop and headphones, booting up an anime._ Puella Magi Madoka Magica _. The beautiful doomed young magical girls battled witches—and each other—to the death. It was an anime she’d seen before, one that got dark and dirty fast. A perfect escape. She watched open-mouthed as Madoka, the indecisive young heroine, battled against the improbable. The art style rippled between regular and gorgeous, flaring up whenever the girls entered a witch’s realm. The whole effect was mesmerizing. If Annie’s own life could be so unrealistic, she was sure she’d be a lot happier._

_And that’s how Annie lost track of time, engrossing herself into one episode, then two, or was it three now? Nurse Mike came back before she expected, with someone else in tow._

_“This is the one,” he said, “who’s terminally ill for a few periods a day.”_

_The other man smiled as Annie blushed and knitted her eyebrows. She took off her headphones._

_“Get well soon,” he said. He was incredibly handsome. He said his name was Mr. Smith. That he was a math teacher._

_“I’m terrible at math,” Annie said, closing her laptop._

_Mr. Smith nodded as if he had heard that before. “I actually have a tutor available. She could meet you here. Provided you’re feeling under the weather.”_

“Right,” Mikasa said from behind. “That may create more problems.”

Annie turned to her. “I’m surprised you remember.”

“Remember?” Mikasa said. “How could I forget?”

 

_So it had been settled. Some days of the week, Annie would come here. The tutor was changing around her schedule and didn’t mind being a nurse’s aide or a math tutor. And she was supposed to be a math prodigy or something, almost as good as Armin Arlert, a freshman totally booked by AP and honors classes and having to tutor everyone in…everything. It was all the same to Annie who helped her. She was practically failing algebra at this point._

_When she showed up to the nurse’s office the next day, Mikasa sat on the bed, having her hands examined by Nurse Mike._

_“You really did a number on them,” he said. “What were you doing?”_

_Mikasa cast a casual glance at Annie. “Practicing,” she muttered glumly._

_Annie narrowed her eyes._

_“Well you wrapped them all wrong, for a start,” he said. “They should heal enough that you might be able to…_ practice _next week. Don’t overdo it.”_

_“Hm.”_

_He wrapped her hands in white bandages, but not before Annie had seen the blister-ridden skin._

_“You didn’t do it again did you? Yesterday?” Annie said._

_Annie had told Mikasa to cut it out with the uneven bars on Monday. It was Wednesday now. If anything, her hands looked worse._

_“Maybe,” Mikasa said, avoiding her eye._

_“Whatever.” Annie glanced around, waiting for Mikasa to leave. “They’re your stupid hands.”_

_“Wait... Is this her?” Mikasa asked Nurse Mike._

_“Yeah. As I recall, her headaches are bad enough that she can’t manage the simplest of math.”_

_Annie’s eyes widened. “Mikasa’s my tutor?”_

_“Something wrong with that?” she said._

_Nurse Mike looked warily between them._

_“Not if you help me pass algebra.”_

_“I could do that.” Mikasa slowly got a notebook and pencil out of her backpack on the floor. Annie realized that her hands were too tender to grip things hard. She rolled her eyes. Mikasa sat at the head of the bed with her legs folded. Annie mirrored her._

_“Absolute values…” Annie said._

_Mikasa laughed, then hid her mouth with a bandaged hand._

_“What?” Annie said._

_“_ That’s _what you’re having trouble with?”_

_“There are other things!” Annie said defensively, fighting the blush that rose up her cheeks._

_“I don’t doubt it.”_

_Annie ignored that._

_“It’s like this,” Mikasa said, scribbling rapidly on her own notebook._

_Annie stared blankly._

_“You don’t get it,” Mikasa said._

_“I can’t read your shitty handwriting. Maybe if you hadn’t fucked up your hands…”_

_Mikasa let out a breath. “Fine. The absolute value of negative 5 is 5, because it’s 5 away from zero.”_

_“Well, I know_ that, _” Annie said._

_“So you don’t need my help?”_

_“Just…” Annie flipped through her notes. For the next twenty minutes, they worked through Annie’s problems. Mikasa had a way of explaining like it was easy. Except she didn’t make it easy. If anything, she made it ten times more confusing but presented it with an air of superiority that said,_ Anyone can do it. So why can’t you? _As Annie struggled, she saw Mikasa’s frustration grow._

_“How about this one,” Annie said. “It makes no sense. The negative negative absolute value of 12.”_

_“What?!”_

_“Right here!”_

_Mikasa scanned the page. “Oh. A negative before the absolute value of negative 12.”_

_“The answer is 12.”_

_“No…”_

_Annie glared at her._

_“Come on. That negative is outside the absolute value symbol. The answer is negative 12.”_

_“What if the negative was inside?”_

_“It is,” Mikasa said._

_“No. Like two of them.”_

_“…That doesn’t make sense.”_

_“Maybe it would make sense if you weren’t such a terrible tutor.”_

_“Excuse you?”_

_“You’d be a lot better if you weren’t such a stuck up—” Annie stopped herself._

_“A stuck up what, Annie?” Mikasa said flatly. There was a flash in her eyes, though her face remained neutral. Scary._

_“Um. Nothing…”_

_“I could slap you.”_

_“Might hurt your hand,” Annie muttered._

_“What the fuck is wrong with you?”_

_“Most things. Guess a perfect person like you couldn’t understand.”_

_“Good luck with failing algebra,” Mikasa said, standing up._

_“Good luck with the uneven bars,” Annie called after her. As the door slammed, Nurse Mike let out a low whistle._

“Get over it. I passed all my math classes without you,” Annie said. _True, but…_

“With Mr. Smith,” Mikasa answered.

The man looked startled, not wanting to be dragged back into whatever this was.

“Listen, girls…”

“So what?” Annie said, ignoring him. Mr. Smith had sometimes come to the office on the pretense of eating lunch with Nurse Mike, helping Annie through problem after problem. She got a C plus that year.

“So you really think you’ll pass a class like this?” Mikasa said. “ _I’m_ not gonna help you. Not even gonna try.”

“Surely we can…” Mr. Smith began.

“What?!” Annie and Mikasa both snapped at him. He recoiled and fell silent.

“I wouldn’t want your help,” Annie said.

“Why would you? After all I’m such a stuck up bitch, right? Isn’t that what you wanted to say?”

“I’m done,” Annie said and stalked out. She didn’t like this catty fighting. Maybe that’s why she never hung out with girls.

 

Her next class, an _actual_ history class, allowed her to cool off. The two of them had mostly avoided one another for most of high school, though they’d ended up in the same gym class year after year. She could only hope they wouldn’t cross paths again after she dropped out of that math class.

After history, she went to her AP Studio Art class. She was the first to walk in, expecting an awkward conversation with the dour old man who’d taught all her art classes. Instead, a sunny redheaded woman greeted her.

“Hi!” she said. The woman was struggling to carry an old brass tuba and a long vase of enormous flowers. “Please take this,” she said, putting the tuba in Annie’s hands.

“Uh…”

“Thanks! I’m Petra Ral. You can call me Petra,” she said, casting a cheerful glance over her shoulder as she positioned the vase of flowers on a stool in the center of the room.

“I’m Annie…” she said as she fought against falling. She didn’t know if the teacher heard her, intent as she was on the positioning of the flowers.

Annie set the tuba next to the stool. It didn’t look right. Petra turned away from a moment to consider the easels and chairs surrounding the props, and Annie snatched up a blue hydrangea blossom and put it in the bell of the tuba.

“Annie!” Petra practically yelped, shocking Annie enough that she immediately put the flower back in the vase and apologized.

“No, no, no,” Petra said. “That’s perfect. Who needs a vase? You’re a true visionary. Here, grab that other stool. No, two.”

Annie did so. Petra arranged the stools in a close triangle and draped a dark green satin sheet over them. She put the tuba on top and had Annie add the flowers. By this time, most of the other students had arrived. The only seat left for Annie was next to Jean Kirschtein. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him. It was just that he was a way better artist, the best in the school. Looking at the results on his easel always made her feel like shrinking down to nothing. As usual, they didn’t really talk—he paid more attention to his best friend Marco anyway—and Petra had them do gesture drawings of the tuba and flowers. As they drew, she told them she was a former college professor, and she outlined the course for them without forcing them to look at a syllabus. Annie managed to avoid looking at Jean’s work.

 

It had been a long time since she’d been to the nurse’s office, but she had no desire to sit alone in the cafeteria and look at _their_ table, especially now that she and Mikasa were at each other’s throats again.

“I’m gonna be sick all year,” Annie told Nurse Mike as a precaution. Her regular history class was okay, and art class had been great so far, but she couldn’t tell if this math thing would be resolved. And who knew what gym class would bring? Nurse Mike nodded slowly, thinking. But just as Nurse Mike was about to speak, two students entered the office, ones she may have despised more than Mikasa.

Bertholdt Hoover limped in, leaning on Reiner Braun. They sort of froze when they saw Annie at the bed, recovering enough to tell Nurse Mike that Bertholdt’s ankle was still bothering him from last year.

Annie made to leave, pausing when the two—Reiner with his muscular bulk and Bertholdt with his sheer height—totally blocked her view of the door.

“Excuse me!” she snapped. They looked at each other and separated enough for her to walk between them. She got out of there, considering going back to the cafeteria if she didn’t have to see those two. Instead, she headed for the bathroom.

The bathroom wasn’t empty. It seemed she’d walked in on something: Ymir leaning with her hand stretched to the wall in a kabedon pose, over Historia. Ymir’s back was to Annie, but she could see Historia looking up with a warm smile at the taller girl.

“Um.”

Ymir turned. While Historia looked embarrassed, Ymir seemed proud to be caught in the act.

“If it isn’t my second favorite blondie,” Ymir said. She indicated Annie’s lunch bag. “You hiding out in here?”

“Maybe not,” Annie said.

“Please don’t leave because of us,” Historia said.

Annie shrugged. “Not like I’m gonna join in…”

Ymir barked out a laugh. “Come on. Chill with us for a while.”

“People might think we’re doing a drug deal,” Annie said.

She was always wary of Ymir, but not afraid to tell her exactly why she disliked her. Ymir’s jaw slackened as her eyes narrowed. Everyone knew Ymir did some shady stuff. But Ymir didn’t get a chance to speak.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Historia said, getting between Ymir and Annie. The latter two looked at each other in surprise.

“Well?” Historia said.

“Sorry. It was…it was just a joke,” Annie said.

“Well, it wasn’t funny…”

“I know,” Annie said.

“It’s fine, babe,” Ymir said. “It’s true. About the drugs.”

“Ymir!” Historia pleaded.

Ymir shrugged. “What? It’s not like I sell _illegal_ drugs. Just my Adderall.”

“Isn’t that…” Annie began.

“It’s illegal,” Historia said, glaring up at Ymir.

“You don’t seem to mind when I buy you diamonds with the money.”

Historia fumed. “You need the pills to study!”

“I _never_ study!”

“You need—"

“Wait, so…” Annie began, “You two are still together?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Historia said defensively.

“Right?” Ymir said. “It’s not like we only hang out in bathrooms when we think no one’s looking.” She said this with an almost cocky grin, but Annie detected something like pain in the sudden softness of her voice.

“Ymir…” Historia said. She turned to Annie. “I know it’s confusing, but Ymir and I think it’s easier to not be together at school after…”

“Our first time!” Ymir said proudly. Historia gasped and headbutted Ymir in the ribs.

“Ow!”

“Okay. Cool,” Annie said. “I’m gonna eat my lunch in here so don’t…do it again.”

Historia left, red-faced, as Ymir followed, trying not to laugh.

 

French class was nearly the same as every year: she was paired with Hitch, with Mina and Hannah partnered up nearby. Annie was leagues better than Hitch at French and the only reason Hitch had gotten to AP level now. Their longstanding tradition was that Annie wrote all the dialogues and let Hitch cheat off her tests. It was worth it to make Hitch say “penis” in front of the whole class and to occasionally get Hitch shitty scores on her tests if she pissed her off. The French teachers had never caught on to their scheme, but this new teacher, Mademoiselle Nanaba, seemed shrewd enough. Annie worried she’d figure it out, fully aware that their little arrangement was the only thing keeping Hitch from being especially mean to her.

“How are you so good at this after the whole summer?” Hitch asked, in a bored tone, during their first practice.

“Eh. I guess I do a lot of Japanese. This makes it seem easier.”

Hitch stared at her. “Why do you do…”

Annie plunged them into the rest of the dialogue they’d present, effortlessly combining grammar points and vocabulary, making Hitch call herself a “prostituée” at the end.

“You act like I don’t know what that means,” Hitch said.

“It’s okay, Hitch. Everybody knows you do.”

Annie smirked as Mina barely stifled a laugh from behind. 

Gym class was last period. Annie went straight to the east gym. Their gym teacher, Shadis—a bald, harsh man with a constant glower and sunken eyes—liked to give long speeches on the first day of the school year. They were always the same. Uniforms, safety rules, grading system, a unit of sex ed with a female science teacher (thank God Shadis wasn’t the one to teach them about their vulvas).

Annie looked around as he spoke. Mikasa was there. Hitch, Hannah, and Mina too. She’d never had all four of them—the dream team—with her in one gym class. Mikasa’s eyes darted to her, then looked away.

 

After school, she went to Mr. Smith’s.

“Hey,” she said, knocking on the doorframe. “I’m sorry about...”

He looked up from his desk and smiled tiredly. “It’s fine. I didn’t know you two hated each other quite so much.”

“Quite so much?”

“I remember now she’d told me you fought. But that was in freshman year. I guess girls hold grudges.”

“Teenage girls are awful,” a voice said from inside. Annie leaned past the doorway. The janitor sat on a desk, short enough that his feet didn’t touch the floor. Annie ignored him.

“I’m putting up the anime club posters now,” Annie told Mr. Smith.

“Really? Can I see them?”

Annie frowned. “I guess.” She pulled a huge stack of flyers from her backpack, kind of embarrassed by how many she’d printed, and laid one on the desk. It took her weeks to be satisfied with the flyer, spending the most time on the drawings. She hadn’t chosen recognizable characters like Sailor Moon or Naruto, knowing those characters would draw the most scorn from her classmates. Instead she drew Celty _,_ the headless and mysterious motorcyclist from _Durarara!!_ and Ginko, the white-haired, one-eyed traveler with some spirits from _Mushi-Shi._

“You drew this shit?” the janitor said.

“Um. Yes?”

“Not bad.”

“These are really good!” Mr. Smith said. “You’ll get a lot of…ah, so it’s in here.”

“Oh,” Annie said. “I can change that.” She’d put Mr. Smith’s room number almost without thinking. And forgot to ask.

“No, it’s fine,” he said. “If you need an advisor who doesn’t have to do anything I can—”

“Oh, uh. I think I already put your name on the form,” she said.

He laughed. “Okay then.”

The janitor shook his head. “Teenaged girls. So entitled.”

 

She tacked the posters up wherever she could find space. Better too much advertisement than too little. Maybe that’s why the walls were plastered with football and wrestling flyers. Annie rolled her eyes at these. They were the school’s top sports. Stupid. So, sure, Annie was spiteful. And put some of her posters over some of theirs. And may have torn some of theirs down. It wouldn’t hurt their recruitment results. As for her anime club, she would be happy if even one person showed up.

The club was every Thursday after school. As the days got closer to the first meeting, Annie already struggled through her math class: after a lengthy argument with her useless guidance counselor, he told her that changing into an easier class would mess up her whole schedule, with no way to take AP art. It looked like she’d have to stay in Mr. Smith’s class.

On Thursday at 3:15, Mr. Smith left his classroom to Annie and told her to have fun. Annie perched on his desk and tried not to check the time too much. She told herself that she wasn’t nervous, that it wasn’t important. Five minutes passed. Ten. No one showed up. After fifteen minutes, she stood, ready to call it a loss. She wouldn’t make friends this year either.

She sat back down when Mikasa walked in.

“Beat it,” Annie said. “There’s a club in here.”

“Oh,” Mikasa said, looking at the flyer she held in her hand. “Anime club? That’s what I’m here for.”

 

 _The uneven bars, the confrontation, the following weeks. Annie watched in class as Mikasa swung in perfect arcs, reaching upward with her legs, letting go, spinning herself to the higher bar. Then a textbook dismount, landing on her feet without so much as a hop, her arms proud above her head._ Perfect, _Annie had thought._ Just perfect.


	2. Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first meeting of the Trost High Anime Club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's had like 8 title changes. I'm tired.

“Anime club?” Annie said. “You’ve come to the wrong place.”

“Annie…”

“Sorry, this is actually the Mikasa Ackerman Appreciation Club. We’re disbanding due to extreme lack of interest, but I can succeed the presidency to you.”

 _A little too mean,_ said a voice in her head as irritation and something else flashed in Mikasa’s eyes.

“You don’t have to act like that.”

“Like what? Come on,” Annie said. “I’ll swear you in now.”

“I don’t get what you want from me!” Mikasa said, throwing her hands up.

“Just pretend you hate anime, and me, like everyone else,” she said, pulling her legs up onto the desk she sat on.

“Why pretend?”

“Exactly. You’re just like them,” Annie said a bit sadly. Too sadly, judging by the look on Mikasa’s face. Annie didn’t know what it meant. She didn’t want to know.

“Them? They don’t hate you, Annie.” Mikasa stepped closer.

“Could have fooled me.” Annie looked into her lap, playing with her shoelaces.

“People don’t hate you,” Mikasa said, taking another step forward. Annie didn’t trust how gentle her voice had become, and she looked up to shoot a glare at the other girl.

“You just fucking said that _you_ did!”

 “I know,” Mikasa said, moving now to sit on top of her usual desk. “But I wouldn’t quite say I hate you. I mean…it’s no secret that we don’t get along. So,” she said then, gesturing to the empty room, “what are we gonna do?”

“ _Do?_ ”

“First meeting has to grab my attention,” Mikasa said with a shrugged smile.

“Oh.” Annie unfolded her legs, kicking them against the side of Mr. Smith’s desk as she thought. She had not planned for an anime club featuring Mikasa Ackerman. But she seemed like a willing participant. And as much as Annie wanted to shun her, Mikasa was the _only_ willing participant. She sighed. “Well…I was gonna have everyone say…” _So embarrassing._ “…Say what anime and manga they liked? You can start.” Annie blushed and looked away, folding her arms.

Mikasa was silent for a moment before beginning. “I watched all the classic stuff a long time ago. _Neon Genesis, Pokémon_ and most of the movies, _Cowboy Bebop, Dragonball, Samurai Champloo_. Stuff like that. I haven’t been watching lately, and I’ve never had much time for manga. I guess I read _Fruits Basket_ in junior high.”

“Yeah. I’ve seen all of those.”

“Oh.”

 _Shit._ Annie decided she’d have to act semi-pleasant to keep this club going. At least for the next 40 minutes or so.

“What I mean is I’ve seen everything,” she began. “All those. Um, also _Ouran,_ _Noragami_ _,_ _Kill la Kill,_ _Durarara!!,_ _Jellyfish Princess,_ _Your Lie in April, Chobits_ _, Gintama, Zankyou no Terror_ …” She looked to Mikasa, nodding as if she understood. It urged Annie on before she could think. She took a deep breath. “Then there’s other stuff like… _Red Garden_ , _House of Five Leaves,_ uh, _So Ra No Wo To,_ _Michiko to Hatchin, FLCL, Hayate the Combat Butler, Escaflowne, Cardcaptor Sakura, Lupin III,_ and _Hyouge Mono_?” She knew she was going in too deep, talking too fast, too excitedly. There was much less recognition in Mikasa’s eyes now, but Annie couldn’t stop herself. “And I really like anime and manga about creatures and stuff. _Kemono no Souja,_ _Parasyte, Anaza,_ _Kemonozume_. And _Neo Ranga_ was really good…What?”

Mikasa was frowning. “Um. I might have heard of _Parasyte_?”

“Sure. It was kinda popular…Anyway, um, I watch a lot of movies, I guess. _Paprika,_ any Miyazaki movies _, The Garden of Words, Ghost in the Shell,_ and I guess _Cat Soup_ is kind of a movie _._ ” Annie stopped and held her breath. She’d done enough damage by running her mouth like that. She hadn’t wanted to scare Mikasa off with how much anime she watched or how much she wanted to talk about it, so what she’d said was actually a very short list.

But Mikasa didn’t seem especially put off. All she asked, with a tilt of her head, was, “ _Cat Soup?_ ”

“Oh, yeah. It’s kinda short and…weird. We could watch it sometime. Here, I mean, in the anime club.”

“What’s it about?”

“Two cats, brother and sister. The girl cat’s soul gets taken by the grim reaper or something. They have to find a flower and get it back.”

“The flower is a soul?”

“Things can be other things, you know?” She didn’t know how to explain it. The film was pretty experimental, something you had to watch (maybe more than once) to understand.

“Yeah, I’d be down for watching that,” Mikasa said. “So is that all we’re doing today?”

Annie bit her cheek. She didn’t know if she wanted to watch an anime with just Mikasa. Plus, she had a feeling that Mikasa suggested it to be nice. Mikasa wouldn’t want to watch with her. She was just was lying through her teeth. She’d tell everyone how shitty the anime club had been. Annie craved escape. There was still a lot of time left ‘til club ended. She looked out the window.

“Well. I was thinking about defenestrating myself…” Annie said dully.

“Huh? What’s—”

“Nothing…Um…I wanted to talk about the positions in the club…other people could apply for…” She looked around at the emptiness of the room, the humiliation cooking her brain. Annie glanced at the clock, then at the window once more, praying that Mikasa would want to leave as badly as she did.  

“Positions…” Mikasa said thoughtfully. “Vice president, treasurer, secretary? I can do those.”

“What? Don’t you have anything better to do?” Annie tightened her hands, fighting off the growing feeling that Mikasa was being too nice.

Mikasa didn’t seem to notice. “Vice president is a powerless position in most clubs. Treasurer takes care of funds, but an anime club doesn’t need much money. Secretary takes notes for, uh, the other members who aren’t here. I can do all those things. No problem.”

“No,” Annie said. She didn’t know why she said it, and by the look on her face, neither did Mikasa. “I don’t need your help.” Annie guessed that it all boiled down to pity. Anyone taking an interest in her struggles was either out to hurt her worse or to look down on her.

Mikasa looked at her with a guarded expression. “But you do need members. At least one.”

“This won’t work. It was all a…a stupid idea.” Annie grabbed her backpack and things.

“Where are you going?”

“Does it matter?”

“I’m just asking. You don’t have to be so weird.”

“Weird?” Annie said bitterly, turning on her.

“No. I mean…I thought maybe we could be…maybe we don’t have to hate each other,” Mikasa said softly.

“That’s a little naïve, don’t you think?”

She left before Mikasa could answer her. The first and last meeting of the anime club had been a total failure.

 

Friday morning, Nurse Mike didn’t ask questions. When she walked in, he looked up from his desk and gestured toward the bed with his thumb. He was a man who asked as few questions as possible, maybe less. If more people were like him, there would be a lot fewer problems in the world. Not that Annie could say she didn’t make things needlessly complicated, yesterday’s anime club being evidence of that. She laid on the bed and thought of Mikasa. There was no way in hell that Annie would go to math class. Not today. Relaxing into the bed and closing her eyes for only a moment, she fell asleep and dreamed of _Cat Soup_.

She woke to a hand gently shaking her shoulder.

“Hey,” Nurse Mike said. “You’ve been gone for a while.”

“Gone?” She thought of the soup she’d been lost in, the flower she still had to find.

“Yeah. It’s almost fourth period.”

“Fourth?!” She looked at the clock across from the bed and jumped up. There were ten minutes left of art class. Should she even go? Nurse Mike was already writing her a pass.

“You were talking in your sleep,” he said as he stood over his desk. “Did you ever find your sister?”

“I…” There was no real curiosity in his voice, though she knew she was being teased when he turned to her with the slightest smile. She went and grabbed the pass from his hand. “I have to go.”

 

She gave her nurse’s pass to Petra and sat next to Marco just as he and everyone else were finishing some sketches of a pile of oranges mixed with small flowers.

“Hey, Annie,” Jean said from next to him, without slowing the fluid movements of his hand, without so much as a glance. “Are you joining the art club this year?”

“Maybe,” she said and meant that to be the end of their conversation. She looked at his sketch. It was perfect, except for the unique parts that he made his own, like the way the flowers curved more, how some of them lacked detail. But in a good way. Marco kept glancing at Jean with a concerned look. Maybe he was envious of his friend, because Marco’s oranges were lumpy, and his flowers looked like popcorn.

“You really should join,” Jean said, finally pausing to rub at the back of his neck. “Your art…” Jean said, looking down, “is, like, really good, Annie.”

She stared at him and heard Marco sigh to himself. Jean didn’t notice. Jean was looking at Annie.

“Why?” she asked, then realized after a brief silence that her question didn’t quite make sense. “Why do you think that?”

“Well,” he said, “I’ve been in art classes with you since freshman year. I always try to sit…I mean, those posters you just did were really good.”

She stiffened. “No, I…How did you know it was me?” After only one person showed up to the club, she knew for sure that flaunting her interest in anime was social suicide.

“Um. It just looked like your stuff. And something you’d like to draw.”

“Shit,” Annie muttered.

“Huh?”

The bell rang. “When is the art club?”

“Wednesdays after school.”

“Okay. Thanks,” she said and walked out before he could say anything else.

 

Gym class started innocently enough. They were playing lacrosse again. Unfortunately, it was Hitch’s favorite sport besides cheerleading. She was captain of the lacrosse team, taking it very seriously, probably injuring a lot of girls with her stick in the process. As luck would have it, Annie was defaulted to be on Hitch’s team since she was the last to be picked. So when they got dressed, Annie wore her gym shirt reversed to the purple side. Her eyes fell on Mikasa wearing her own shirt green-side out. Annie wondered if it was better this way, not to be together.

But they went out to the field, and Mikasa’s team quickly took the lead.

“What the fuck? Move your feet,” Hitch said as she ran past Annie.

Annie wasn’t doing anything wrong, though she was putting in the bare minimum. When it came down to it, it was just that Mikasa was a much better lacrosse player than Hitch, and Hitch piled that grief onto Annie. Her insults kept coming until Annie couldn’t stand it anymore. She got tired of running up and down the field, of defense, of offense. The next time the ball happened to fall into the pocket of Annie’s stick, she stood for a moment, then dumped it. Mikasa was right there, but stood frozen, staring. Everyone was staring, no one going after the dropped ball. Everything slowed down, a bad moment stretching its duration in all directions, signaling that a worse moment was on the horizon. Annie looked over to a furious Hitch.

“Oh, it slipped,” Annie said with as much indifference as she could.

Hitch was the first to move, stalking down the warpath to Annie, the others scooting out of the way for her. “What the fuck is _your_ problem?”

“I’m just bad at lacrosse,” Annie said, pushing up her glasses.

“Then stay out of the way,” Hitch snapped at her. She said as much to her teammates: no one pass to Annie. It was fine by her.

 Hitch’s team lost. Shadis forced Annie to run laps after class, but she felt pretty good about that too.

When she got back inside, the locker room was empty. The first thing she saw was her lock on the floor. Which didn’t mean anything on its own. She’d forgotten to lock up her stuff again, but the sense of foreboding burned through her. She opened her locker to find her backpack. And no clothes. It was a cold day with a wicked wind. She’d need her hoodie for the walk home. And the thought of losing that hoodie stung her eyes. It had been a gift from…

“Fuck. Shit!”

For five minutes, she checked all the empty lockers, going faster and faster, slamming them shut when all they yielded was stray socks or empty deodorants.

“Goddammit!” She kicked at a locker, the sound of her shoe hitting metal satisfying, but not enough. She kicked and yelled until she was out of breath, the locker scuffed and a little dented for her efforts.

“Um…” A voice from the doorway. She didn’t have to look. “Are you okay, Annie?”

“…Nah.” She didn’t want to look. “They stole my stuff.”

“Your backpack?” Mikasa asked.

“No. No, just my clothes.”

“I can help you find them…”

“Stop. You’ve done enough.” Annie sniffed and put her backpack on, finally facing Mikasa. “Besides, it is what it is, right?”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” Annie said, walking past her, head down.

 

The walk from school was worse than she expected, the hard wind whipping wet leaves at her, the sleeveless gym shirt and skimpy shorts doing nothing to protect her against the cold. Somehow she was the first one to get home, despite all her misadventures. She started watching some shitty comedian on TV. While microwaving herself an instant ramen, she heard a key turn in the lock.

 “I’m home!” an ebullient little voice cried.

“Hey!” Annie called out. She heard a rush of feet as Rosie ran at her full speed. A sunshiny girl, all blonde curls and dashing blue eyes, fell into Annie’s arms.

“I have drawings for you,” Rosie said, squeezing Annie’s neck tight.

“Okay, just let go of me,” Annie said in a strangled voice.

Rosie wasted no time in unloading her pink backpack, pulling out a gaudy Lisa Frank folder and removing scribbled-on sheets for Annie to analyze.

Their father walked into the kitchen. Rosie bounced up to him. “Daddy, do you wanna see my drawings?”

“Oh,” he said absently, scratching at the dark stubble of beard he didn’t care enough to get rid of. He was the definition of “head in the clouds” as he towered over his short, blonde daughters, mulling over Rosie’s question as if it was a particularly difficult hint in a crossword puzzle. “Maybe later,” he said at last, wandering off to his room where he’d stay ‘til morning reading one of his books.

Rosie stood frozen, clutching her drawings.

“Hey,” Annie said. “Ignore him.”

“He’s all spacey today,” Rosie mumbled. Annie didn’t much like how sad he could make the little girl. She was only seven.

“He usually is. Well let’s see what we have here,” Annie said, taking Rosie’s drawings and spreading them on the counter.

“I drew us,” Rosie said, flashing a huge grin. There was a house and four people in the drawing. The two of them, their father, and…their mother.

“Oh,” Annie said. “This is good. Rosie…”

“What? Do you not like it?”

“I love it, but…do you even remember Mom?”

“I remember what you’ve told me…”

Annie sighed. “Right…Is this me?”

Rosie had to get on her tiptoes to look. “Yup! You’re wearing your unicorn.”

“I am,” Annie said with a big smile. Her hoodie…the green and purple unicorn was the school’s mascot.

“Did you draw anything today, Annie?” Rosie said with a hopeful, shy smile.

“Hmm. I drew all over my French notes. Hold on.” Annie went and found her French spiral, unearthing it at last from her messy backpack. She came back to her sister sitting at the table.

“Your ramen’s done,” Rosie said as she forked up a mouthful of noodles.

“Hey!” Annie said. “That’s mine.”

Rosie slurped.

“Stop enjoying them!” Annie laughed. Rosie giggled as Annie took the food away. She tossed her spiral on the table for her sister to look through. Rosie picked it up in her little hands and found that day’s notes.

“Is this a magic girl?” she asked and held the page up to Annie.

“Yeah,” Annie said, taking a bite of noodles.

“She’s transmorming.”

“Transforming,” Annie said. She wiped at her mouth and looked at her sister adoringly. Rosie was great. All her friends loved her, and she was already wicked smart. _Too good for second grade,_ Annie thought, not for the first time.

“You’re so good,” Rosie said with a pout.

“Practice, practice,” Annie said and ruffled her hair.

“I’ll never get as good as you.”

“You will,” Annie reassured her. “You’re starting earlier than I did. The student will become the master.”

“Really?”

“I’ll make sure of it. For now, let’s watch some _Pokémon._ ”

“Okay!”

 

 Rosie cuddled on Annie’s lap, getting so quiet and still that Annie swore she was asleep. She looked down, petting her golden curls, thinking. _Every kid needs a mom._ It had torn Rosie in half, losing her, so Annie hoped an older sister would do for now.

Suddenly, Rosie spoke. “Everyone likes the new episodes,” she said as she laid there. “I like these. They don’t show these.”

“Lucky you have me to hook you up with old DVDs.”

“Yeah. Annie?” She looked up.

“What?”

“How are you so cool?”

Annie stared at Rosie in disbelief. “I’m…not cool, Rosie. I’m like the least popular kid in school. If they, like, bothered to rank us I mean.”

“That can’t be true! Your friends are mean!”

“I don’t have friends!” Annie said. She immediately regretted it. The way Rosie’s face fell…

“Hey,” Annie said. “Don’t…” But Rosie’s lip was already quivering.

“Why don’t they like you?” Rosie squeaked out. “You’re the best.”

“I’m not the best,” Annie sighed. “Look. It’s because I watch this stuff.” She gestured at the TV. “I mean _Pokémon_ is okay, but the other stuff isn’t. People don’t like people who watch this stuff. Not around here.”

“Why not?”

“God, I dunno, Rosie. It’s nerdy, I guess.” She thought back to the shame she’d felt at her stupid club. To Mikasa…

Rosie looked at the TV, brow furrowed. “They’re wrong. It’s cool.”

Annie smiled. “Yeah,” she sighed. “They must be wrong.”

The doorbell rang.

“You get it,” Rosie said and went limp in Annie’s lap. Annie shoved her off with a laugh and went to the door. She wasn’t expecting anyone to come over.

She was definitely not expecting Mikasa Ackerman, standing there in her green and purple cheer uniform, looking lost, holding Annie’s clothes.

“Hey,” she said. “I got your stuff back.”

“How?” Annie took everything in her arms: her shirt, her pants, and her precious hoodie.

“I made some calls?”

“To who?”

Mikasa sighed. “Don’t you know already? The girls said they were gonna give it back. That they were just teasing.”

“Did you believe them?”

“…No,” Mikasa said. “Not really.”

Rosie came up behind Annie, gripping at her leg and peeking out at Mikasa.

“Hello,” Mikasa said, smiling softly. Rosie tensed and ran away.

“She’s shy at first,” Annie apologized.

Mikasa nodded. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

 _You don’t know anything about me,_ Annie thought. “Right. Well. Thanks for bringing my stuff.”

Mikasa seemed to hesitate for a moment. “Yeah. No problem. Bye.”

“See ya.”

Annie closed the door and leaned against it, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. What the hell had just happened? She had _hated_ Mikasa for so long, even up through the anime club yesterday. She’d judged her so harshly. For what? It had turned out she might be…nice? She didn’t even do anything wrong at anime club. It was all on Annie. She hated herself in that moment, until her sister pulled her out of it.

“Annie. Who was that?”

Annie sighed, still staring at the door. “I don’t really know. A classmate?”

“Your friend?” Rosie said, as if hoping their earlier conversation hadn’t been true.

“Friend? I really don’t think so, Ro.”

_Not quite._

_Not yet._

 

Monday morning. As she laid in the nurse’s office bed, counting down the moments until first period would be over, she told herself she definitely wasn’t avoiding Mikasa. This didn’t have anything to do with Mikasa’s kindness or pity or whatever it was: her offering help with the anime club, tracking down her clothes, delivering them to her house.

She settled on that notion that she just really hated math class. _I really hate the class after too,_ she thought as the bell letting out first period rang. She didn’t move. With the sound of the second bell, the passing period ended. Too late. She stayed put.

“You’re not going?” Nurse Mike said. “Must be really bad if you can’t even start your day…Again.”

“Could be bad. I’m not taking any chances.” She began counting the dots in the ceiling, but Nurse Mike was unusually chatty today.

“That’s a great attitude to have in life.”

“The terminally ill aren’t required to be optimistic,” she said, closing her eyes.

“Hm.” He was silent for a few minutes until his desk chair scooted back. Annie felt a big dip at the foot of the bed and opened her eyes to see him sitting there, staring at the door.

“Heh, terminally ill. It’s funny, I said that in your freshman year, and you’re still alive.”

“Dying can be a slow process…”

“It’s possible I misdiagnosed you.”

“You never even took my temperature,” Annie said with a smile.

He looked at her with a grim expression. “You know, I have my limits when it comes to how sick a student can get. Eventually I’ll just force them to go to class, infect everyone. When those kids come in, it’ll keep me busy, right?”

“Seriously?” Annie sat up. She could feel how messy her hair had gotten and undid her bun.

“Yeah. It was Erwin’s math class that was the problem, right?”

“Mr. Smith’s? Yeah.”

He let out a long sigh and looked forward again. “My point is, your coming here when you don’t need to is just taking advantage of my kindness.”

Annie shook her head, running her fingers through her hair and taking the hair tie out of her mouth. “I’m not taking advantage of your kindness. Just your apathetic nursing policies.”

“Smart mouth for such a bad student. You know most kids who come in here stay quiet.”

“You’re the one who’s talking,” she muttered. She finished tying up her hair, feeling around the edges until she was satisfied it didn’t look like a haystack.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m laying down some ground rules. Don’t be sick during the same period two days in a row. You can only be sick twice a day. It comes down to you stopping by when you feel like you’re absolutely about to die. And no anime, either.”

She ignored the anime comment, noting that he didn’t say anything about manga. “Three days in a row,” she said. “I won’t miss three days in a row of Mr. Smith’s class.”

Nurse Mike’s brow furrowed. “I have the attendance records of all the students. Don’t skip out in the bathroom or something.”

“Fine.”

“I’m writing you a pass back into second period. Better hurry. I’m marking the time you left as five minutes ago.”

“Yeah, your kindness is really showing.” They stood up, and she reached out for the pass. He held it above his head, staring down at her with an unreadable expression.

“You know,” he said, “sometimes you can stop being sick if you pretend everything’s okay. Placebo effect.” His hand came down, chopping her lightly on the head. She took the note.

“Thanks for the expert medical advice.”

“Any time. See you tomorrow?”

“My migraine’s already forming.”

 

“Hey, Annie,” Hitch said during French class, right after Annie had tried to write a dialogue where Hitch declared her love for enormous, hairy cocks.

“What?” Annie was disappointed it hadn’t worked.

Hitch rested her cheek on her hand, a familiar mischievous glint in her eye. “How do you say ‘anime club’ in French?”

Annie almost went pale. Hannah laughed behind them.  “Who told you about that?” Annie asked.

“Je ne sais pas. Personne,” Hitch said lightly.

“That’s not…”

Man Hitch’s French really sucked.

“No, seriously,” Annie said.  “Was it Mikasa?”

Hitch’s lips quirked up. “Mikasa? Pourquoi?

“Just fucking tell me!”

“Annie!” Mademoiselle Nanaba said. “I expect this kind of language from Hitch, not from you!”

Despite everything, Annie had to hide a smile. Sabotaging Hitch’s dialogues year after year paid many dividends: Mlle Nanaba already knew about Hitch’s reputation from other French teachers.

Hitch looked at Annie. “Tais-toi,” she muttered.

“Hitch!” Mademoiselle Nanaba exclaimed. “Incroyable—”

“Non, pardon! I wasn’t telling _you_ to shut up!” Hitch floundered.

After a few confused exchanges, Mlle Nanaba eventually gave up, tired of Hitch’s antics.

“You’re so dead,” Hitch told Annie.

“Oh, oui?” Annie said as she began balancing a pencil between her nose and lip.

“Want everyone to know you’re the anime club president?”

Annie paused, the pencil dropping to the floor. “Want me to fuck up gym class?”

“You’re already going to…”

“Listen, anime club is cancelled anyway.”

“Really? You know kids will hate a nerd who quits even more.”

Annie glanced at her. “You gonna tell everyone I’m a nerd, then?”

Hitch smiled and shrugged. “What do you think?”

“Not like I would expect anything less from you.”

 

She might have expected more. By the time she got to the locker room, she had sensed a change in the atmosphere. Annie walked to the corner her locker sat in and saw it: a single anime club flyer taped to her locker door. She ripped it down and dialed in her combination as the other girls snickered around her. Annie’s head ached, an unbearable pressure forming somewhere deep in her skull.

She was picked last for lacrosse, again on Hitch’s team. She changed into her gym shirt, wearing the same purple as Hitch and the others against Mikasa’s green team.

“That loser better not screw this up again,” a girl in a purple shirt said, casting her an evil eye.

It got on Annie’s nerves. She’d never spoken two words to her before. Still, she went out to the field and did her best to stay out of the way. Annie knew she’d be good at sports if she tried, but athletic skill came with high expectations, especially in a school where sports were prized.

So she avoided getting the ball, ignoring Hitch’s constant ire that was infecting her other teammates. She heard a lot of murmuring from the others, names like “freak” and “weirdo” being dropped. The names rolled off her, having none of the malice that the names in freshman year held.

Mostly she avoided Mikasa. Often she found herself staring at her, the way Mikasa carried herself like lacrosse was life or death, even more than Hitch did; the sincere, grave expression on her face; the pure focus in her eyes as she went in for a catch. Then, Mikasa collided with another girl. Actually, it was the same one who had called Annie a loser. Unfortunate that only Mikasa was injured, not that she wanted to see Mikasa hurt.

Blood dripped from her nose. Mikasa had barely winced, but she cursed and wiped at the wound.

“Great,” she said. “Can’t play anymore.”

The other girl apologized, but Mikasa waved it off. Annie could see that she bore the girl no ill will. Mikasa only wanted to win.

“I’ll come back if I can,” she muttered to some girls on her team. The blood ran down her chin now, but she wasn’t the least bit alarmed. She walked past Annie, averting her eyes after a quick glance.

With Hitch’s main competition gone, Annie could feel the pressure in her head draining. Her team was obviously going to win. But she never saw the end of it: it was a total accident, Mina slamming her stick into Annie’s nose as she turned to go after the ball. _Like Mikasa_ , Annie thought as she touched her hand to her face. It was a lot of blood, and it hurt like shit. But Annie could handle pain.

“I’m so sorry!” Mina kept saying as the girls gathered to see.

“It’s fine,” Annie said. “I’m fine.” Her glasses had flown off. A blurred Mina placed them in her hands, apologizing again.

“Don’t feel bad, Mina,” Hitch said. “Bitch deserves it.”

Annie put her glasses on and glared at Hitch. “Do not. Call me that,” she said. She looked around to see no one defend her, not even Mina.

“You gonna tell Mikasa on me?” Hitch said.

“Take it back.”

“Or what?”

Annie grabbed at Hitch’s collar and pulled her in. “Just take it back.”

Hitch shoved her away, laughing. “Who do you think you are, Annie?”

“You said it. I’m a fucking bitch.” She threw her lacrosse stick to the ground and walked off, wiping at the blood running into her mouth. Annie looked at the blood on her hands and realized she was shaking.

 

She hoped that Nurse Mike was finished up with treating Mikasa, but the other girl was sitting on the bed, wincing as he touched an ice pack to her nose.

“Not broken or anything,” he said. He turned at the sound of the door closing. “Ah, hell. Not you too.”

Annie stared at the ground.

“What happened?” Mikasa asked, getting up. “Annie, what did Hitch do?”

Annie refused to look at her, even when Mikasa put a hand on Annie’s shoulder. “It was Mina. An accident.” Her voice was distant and flat. The pain in her head was back. For once, she had actually come here with an actual headache, never mind her injury.

Mikasa fell back. “But are you okay?”

Annie raised her eyes, anger rising. “Just stop it!” She walked past Mikasa. “Fix it,” she said to Nurse Mike, her voice a whisper, her vision clouding.

He seemed to get it. “Mikasa, you’re good to go. Just don’t put any pressure on your nose for a while and keep icing it.” He tossed her the ice pack he was holding.

“Okay,” Annie heard her say. The door opened and closed, and Annie sat on the bed, head down. Nurse Mike left her alone for a minute, gathering supplies slowly.

Finally he stood in front of her. She didn’t look up. “Alright,” he said. “Lacrosse stick?”

She nodded mutely. He lifted her chin and took a look. “Not so bad,” he said softly. He took off her glasses and wiped away the blood with a damp cloth. When he touched the bridge of her nose, there was a shock of pain that she used to let a tear fall. Nurse Mike ignored it. Until another tear came. And another.

“Annie…Lean your head forward to relieve pressure.” He handed her a towel for the blood and backed off, pretending to look for something in a cabinet as Annie watched her tears fall onto the tiles at her feet. She let out a whimper as the last bell of the day rang. She would give anything to get up and go home with everyone else. But it hurt so much.

If nothing else, Nurse Mike was patient. Annie didn’t know how much time passed before she sat up, making sure to wipe her face with an unbloodied part of the towel. He was sitting at his desk, turned to face her.

“Your eyes are swelling.”

She balked at him until she realized what he meant. There was pain under her eyes. She reached up.

“Don’t touch them.” He stood, going to the mini fridge and getting an ice pack. “Nose injuries can mess up the sinuses. You’re gonna have crazy raccoon eye bruising. Just so you know.”

“…Thanks.” The ice pack was flexible, able to cover her nose and under her eyes. The relief was instant.

“Feeling better?”

Annie thought for a moment, then looked up at him, the threat of crying coming back, only a little. Her voice was strained and weak when she asked him, “Do you think I’m a bitch?”

Nurse Mike looked toward the ceiling and rubbed at the back of his head. “Um. No? I can’t really say yes. You can be frigid cold, but if someone called you that, then they don’t really know you.”

She nodded and put on her glasses again, negotiating her ice pack around the frames. His answer was what she’d expected from him: honest and direct. And maybe it was what she needed. Still. “I don’t have friends.”

Nurse Mike shrugged and went back to his desk. “Me neither.”

“What about Mr. Smith?” Annie asked.

He tensed as he sat down. “Nah. We weren’t…we’re not friends.”

“Oh... Can I go now?”

He cast her a sidelong glance. “Yeah. Sleep with your head elevated. And keep the ice pack. You’re gonna need it.”

“Okay.”

“Come back tomorrow. I mean I know you will, but…”

“Hm, yeah. And thanks.”

“Whatever, kid. Seeyah.”

 

The next morning, after Rosie’s freakout at the state of her face, after her dad not really caring (and probably not even noticing in the first place), after deciding to ditch first period again, Annie was, as predicted, back at the nurse’s office.

“It looks good. Well, not good, but you know what I mean,” Nurse Mike said. “Feels better?”

Annie shrugged. “Not really.” They looked at each other for only a second.

“Well,” he said. “You’ll feel better soon… Right?”

Annie breathed out. Under her eyes were black crescent bruises. Her nose was swollen and red. Since she hadn’t gotten a doctor’s note yet, she was betting that Shadis would make her play more lacrosse today.

After he was done checking her out, she laid down and got reacquainted with her view of the ceiling. When she heard the door opening, Annie lolled her head over, eyes widening in shock.

“Annie,” Mr. Smith said. Nurse Mike stood and quietly walked out.

She sat up, and he stared for a moment at her bruises. “Are you okay?”

She looked at the clock. It was halfway through first period.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“My students are doing some self-directed research,” he said, arms crossed as he stood before her. “And you?”

 But she didn’t say anything. There wasn’t much to say to defend herself.

“Friday, Monday, and today,” he said. “If you’re not going to take my class seriously, then I can’t take you seriously. I know you don’t want to flunk out. So what’s happening, Annie?”

She shook her head and bit her lip. She didn’t trust herself to speak and focused on blinking, breathing. Simple functions for a simple person, but the easiest tasks were getting harder lately. Her life had too many complications, ones that were becoming too much for her alone.

Mr. Smith sighed and sat down on the bed. “People aren’t being kind to you again. What happened to your face?”

“It’s fine,” she said. “I’m kinda used to people being, uh...”

“No, you’re not. No one can get used to these things.”

“I don’t wanna go back to your class. I don’t like those kids.”

“Annie…it’ll—”

“Don’t tell me it’ll be okay! It never is! Never!” She shut her eyes as the tears fell. It was happening too often now. Freshman year she’d been a desert. She hadn’t needed anything then. Not food, not sleep, not others. She didn’t want to feel like a person who needed things. She needed everything to stop. She wanted to be alone.

“I’m sorry, Annie. I really am. You don’t have to come back to class today. Try tomorrow.”

She thought then that the tears had run dry. She could be sand dunes, hot wind, buried bones and isolation. But then Mr. Smith pulled her into a hug that killed her desert, upending it until she didn’t know what she was anymore. Thoughts of what, who, and where crashed in her head. People were too confusing. She thought he was angry at her. She wanted him to be angry at her, to think that she was a bitch.

“I hate you,” she said weakly.

“That’s fine,” he said. “You can come hate me any time, Annie.”

 

So Annie stayed out of Mr. Smith’s class for the day and avoided French class as well. True to his word, Nurse Mike said she couldn’t use his office to ditch out of any more classes for the day.

Annie went to the locker room. Lacrosse again. Hitch’s team again. As they walked to the field, Annie looked at Mikasa’s green shirt and her own purple shirt. She didn’t know anymore which team it would be worse to be on.

“Hey, come on, Annie,” she heard someone say. Hitch motioned for Annie to join the huddle that was already forming.

“Okay,” Hitch began. “They have Mikasa, but you have me. We can kick their asses if everyone,” a pointed stare at Annie, “moves like clockwork. I have a few plays planned out…” Annie disconnected. This didn’t concern her. She pushed up her glasses, the pain of her injury making itself known at the bridge of her nose. She prepared herself to do as little work as possible.

Several plays went down, with Mikasa efficiently running her team’s defense. Annie observed her, noting that her nose was only the slightest bit red. She still played just as tough as before, not afraid to move aggressively. Everything was normal, except that the other players gave Annie a wide berth, as if she was cursed. As if they couldn’t stand to deal with her.

Class was almost over, and no one had messed with her. She was gazing longingly back at the school when Hitch shouted, “Annie!” She turned in time to see the ball sailing toward her, staring at it like she’d never seen one before. The last thing she saw was a blur of emerald. A black-haired beauty, rage and aggression set in her eyes, jumping on her at full speed. A burst of pain, and Annie’s view spotted over red, until everything was quiet, and her world fell black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May we all have a nurse as fine as Nurse Mike (swoon!). Also Rosie is...I love her.
> 
> So, titles I went through: The Possibility of Hurt (early draft), Cat Soup, Cat Soup (Part One), Desert, Cat Soup: Desert Scene, Anime Club, Why Was My HS Nurse A Bitter Old Hag This Isn't Fair.
> 
> I can never ever ever thank any of you enough for the kudos and comments and other reaching-outs! I've never gotten a response to a fic like this. Seriously. There's not much else I can say. My words are spent. I'm crying also.


	3. Cat Soup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second meeting of the Trost High Anime Club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tag added to assuage concerns: Angst with a happy ending.

Annie opened her eyes to a swaying blue sky. It took a moment to realize that she was the one swaying, held in someone’s strong grip as they carried her from the field. There was a wooziness to her head, a dull pain percolating at the base of her skull where her head had slammed the ground. It was nothing compared to the sharp pain in her ankle. From when… She lifted her head, bleary eyes landing on Mikasa’s grimly determined face. Mikasa glanced down at her, saying something muted by the ringing in Annie’s ears. Tired and confused, Annie lolled her head back and resigned herself to being carried.

It seemed she’d only blinked when her blue sky was swapped out for gray ceiling, tiles passing slowly as Mikasa walked on, carrying her like she was nothing. Somehow, Mikasa opened the door to the nurse’s office, not even needing to set Annie down.

Annie heard Nurse Mike exclaim something and felt herself lowered onto the familiar white bed.

“I tackled her,” Mikasa’s voice said from a far away, underwater place. “She hit her head.”

“ _You_ hit my head,” Annie grumbled.

Nurse Mike and Mikasa appeared above her.

 “Snarkiness level is normal,” Nurse Mike said, shining a light in her eyes.

“Ah! Fucking warn first?” Annie said, shielding her eyes.

“Irritability on par,” he said, snapping off his penlight. “What happened?” he asked.

Annie cast her eyes on Mikasa. “Tackled in lacrosse…”

“In lacrosse? Is that allowed?” he asked.

“Um,” Mikasa said. “Probably isn’t.”

Annie got up on an elbow with some difficulty. “Probably?”

She felt a hand on her chest, Mikasa shoving her back down. “Stay.”

Annie grunted as she gave in.

“You feeling sick? Drowsy?” Nurse Mike said.

“No. Not really. But my ankle hurts a lot more than my head.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Mikasa asked, outraged.

“I mean, having a concussion tends to stilt conversation.”

“Does she have a concussion?” Mikasa said, wheeling on Nurse Mike.

“She’ll have to be observed for thirty minutes first. I’ll take a look at that ankle now.”

“Right one,” Annie said. She grimaced as Nurse Mike removed her shoe. “You can go, you know,” she said to Mikasa.

The other girl shook her head vigorously. “I have to make sure you’re okay.”

Annie closed her eyes and let out a sigh. “Fine… Fucking hell!” she snapped as Nurse Mike flexed her ankle.

“Hurts that bad?” he asked.

“No. But again, warn a girl first.”

“I’ll have you try walking on it after you rest.”

Annie lifted her head slightly to see him walking off to his desk, checking his watch. “Hoping to get home?” she asked.

He sighed and sat down. “Overtime is fine, I guess.”

Mikasa perched herself at Annie’s bedside.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Annie asked.

“Making sure you don’t fall asleep.”

“Hm.” The more Annie thought about it, the more she was sure that Mikasa had told Hitch about anime club. Annie had kept her head down when the anime club poster appeared on her gym locker. Looking around then, looking at Mikasa, would have sent her into a rage. Now, Mikasa kept talking like everything was fine.

“And I have to get you caught up on math class.”

Then why was Mikasa being so nice? Nothing made sense anymore. Not Mikasa’s coming to anime club in the first place, or rescuing her clothes, or staying at her bedside now. Annie didn’t get it and instead focused her attention on glowering at the ceiling.

“You’ve missed a lot. Mr. Smith is kinda mad.”

“Yeah, he’s pissed,” Annie finally said. “We talked today.”

“You should go to class. After all, he lets us use his room for the club.”

“Us? Who says we’re still doing the club?”

Mikasa blinked at her. “Just because people give you shit doesn’t mean you shouldn’t enjoy things, Annie.”

“Look, in case you haven’t noticed,” Annie said, “I’m a bit beat up over the past week. Not all of it has been because of the club, but I’ve had enough. Anime club is canceled.”

Annie nearly recoiled as Mikasa reached to touch her cheek, but confusion kept her frozen at the gentle touch of Mikasa’s fingers.

“You’ve had a bad time,” Mikasa said sadly.

That did it. Annie swatted her hand away. “Yeah, well…”

“Well what?”

“It is what it is. So don’t go trying to make it something else.”

Mikasa looked off at the clock and nodded. “I guess you don’t have a concussion. You make sense. More sense than usual.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“When someone offers to help you, pushing them away isn’t exactly the social standard.”

Annie gulped. Circumventing apology, she said, “I mean, do I look like someone who cares about social standards?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t accusatory. It was a fact that was spoken softly. It was something that Mikasa knew she didn’t have to explain.

“I—” Annie flushed. “You don’t know anything about me!”

“That’s not my fault,” Mikasa said distantly.

Annie held her tongue, knowing full well Mikasa had a point.

“You shouldn’t skip anymore class,” Mikasa said. “Okay?”

Annie turned to her, not expecting the laid-bare look in her eyes, the one that didn’t lecture, but asked her, simply, to come back.

“Sure,” Annie said. “I’ll see.”

The half-hour passed, and Mikasa was still around, sitting on the bed when Nurse Mike declared that his “favorite patient” didn’t have a concussion.

“Stand up,” he said to Annie. “We can figure out your ankle now. Lean on me if you need.”

“I don’t need—” The stab of pain as she shifted her weight to the right foot was enough to make her fall back on him, clinging to his arm. “Shut up.” She didn’t need to look at the others to know that they were both hiding laughter.

“Walk with me,” Nurse Mike said, moving forward with his ridiculously long gait. She didn’t have time to complain as she was dragged along. And with some of her weight on him, the pain was manageable.

“My best guess is it’s barely a grade one sprain,” he said as he walked with her back to the bed. She plopped herself down next to Mikasa.

“What does that mean?”

“Super minor sprain. Up to two weeks on crutches. _At most,_ ” he said when he saw the glint in her eye. She could miss so much gym class. Mikasa rolled her eyes at this but smiled ever so slightly.

“I’ll call your parents to pick you up,” Nurse Mike said. “And I’m required to tell them about your head injury.”

“My dad won’t answer, but call away,” Annie said. She knew the nurse had phoned her home before and received no answer. When her prediction came true, he seemed at a loss.

“I don’t know how to get you home.”

“Can’t nurses afford cars?” Annie asked.

“Rode my bike today. But even if I didn’t, I’d throw you out on your ass.”

“You can lean on me,” Mikasa chimed in.

Annie looked at her reproachfully. “The whole way?”

“Sure,” Mikasa said happily. “I owe you one.”

“Cool,” Nurse Mike said. “’Bout time we left.” He got into his jacket and would have been long gone if he didn’t have to lock the door after the other two.

There was a moment where Annie just stared at the girl seated next to her on the bed. “How are we gonna—Ah!" Mikasa looped her left arm around Annie’s waist and slipped off the bed to a standing position, pulling Annie along. Mikasa was a good half foot taller than Annie, bringing Annie’s eyes to the other’s collarbone. With a grimace on Annie’s part, they began to walk, Annie trying her best to keep her head out of Mikasa’s armpit and boob area. They got out of the nurse’s office, but not before Annie noted the subtle scent of Mikasa’s sweat mixed with a sweet flowery perfume.

They said goodbye to Nurse Mike and made their way to the locker room to change out of their gym clothes and grab their stuff.

“You need anything from your regular locker?” Mikasa asked as Annie pulled on her jeans, ignoring the twang in her ankle.

“On the second floor? God, no.”

“Thought I’d ask.”

“Okay,” Annie said. “You can back out. You really don’t need to do this.”

_(I really don’t want you to.)_

Mikasa looked at her with a warmth Annie wasn’t used to. “Come on. No way I’d lose this opportunity.”

Annie looked away, suddenly nervous. “Chance of a lifetime, right?”

“Of course.”

“Let’s just go.”

She let go of her balance against the lockers and practically fell into Mikasa’s arms.

“Careful!” Mikasa said, making Annie grumble.

They got outside and for a long time walked on in silence, through the autumn cold and wet.

They had nearly reached Annie’s block when a car pulled up beside them.

“Mikasa,” the driver, Reiner, said. Bertholdt leaned forward from the passenger seat. Annie was mostly blocked from their view.

“Need a ride?” Reiner said.

“Don’t you have football practice?” Mikasa teased.

“What about your cheer practice? Come on, we’ll give you a ride.”

Annie leaned and made eye contact with him for just a moment and quickly cut her eyes away.

“No,” Annie mumbled so Mikasa could hear. “No no no.”

“Uh, no thanks. We’re almost there,” Mikasa said in a fake cheery voice.

Annie gave a tsk and pulled Mikasa forward, forcing her to move.

Reiner drove off.

“You don’t like those guys,” Mikasa said as a fact.

“No,” Annie said. “No, I don’t.”

“May I ask why?”

“No…but I was gonna tell you anyway. It’s because they’re assholes.”

“Oh.”

“All your friends,” Annie went on, “…They’re all assholes.”

“Not all of them… Not all the time.”

“An asshole is an asshole. Even when they’re faking being nice.”

“Do you really believe that?” Mikasa turned to her.

“Mostly,” Annie said, blinking at Mikasa. “But they’d never do mean shit to you, Mikasa. So you’re safe. You’re the queen bee, after all.” She said it with more disdain than she intended. Mikasa looked forward and started walking faster.

“I’m sorry,” Annie said, forcing herself to match Mikasa’s pace despite the pain. “I’m an asshole too. Forgot to tell you.”

Mikasa sort of laughed. Well, it sounded like a laugh. Annie wasn’t sure.

At last, Annie’s house came into sight.

“This isn’t…far out of your way, is it?” Annie asked Mikasa.

“Well,” Mikasa said. “Not especially.”

Annie sighed. “It’s opposite from your house.”

“…Yes,” Mikasa said. “But don’t worry about it. I like the exercise.”

“I can believe that.” Annie fished out her keys as they walked up the driveway. “You didn’t have to do all that, you know. I would have found my way home.”

Mikasa shook her head. “Annie. I wanted to.”

“Why?”

“I told you. I don’t hate you.”

Annie furrowed her brow and looked down at her keys. “We both know that’s a lie.”

“What? No, Annie, seriously. Wait. Do you…still hate me?”

Annie leaned against the door and put the key in the lock.

“I can’t say—Shit!” The door swung inward, and Annie nearly squashed Rosie.

Mikasa had grabbed Annie’s hand, pulling her in to save her from another injury.

“Sorry,” Rosie said, still clutching at the door she’d opened so eagerly.

“It’s okay, Ro,” Annie said as Mikasa let go of her hand, letting her find her balance. “I just sprained my ankle today, so I’m leaning on things. And cheerleaders. That’s why I’m late.”

Rosie looked down in shock. “Will it get better?”

“Yeah, in like a week or two,” Annie said.

Her sister nodded, appeased, then looked at Mikasa. “Is she staying for dinner?”

“Um…” Mikasa turned to Annie helplessly.

“I wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Annie said, giving her the slightest smile. “I’ll be able to skip out on gym because of Mikasa.”

Mikasa balked. “Oh. Yeah, I can stay.”

Rosie tugged on Mikasa’s sleeve. “Do you like _Pokémon_?”

“Sure, why?”

Rosie’s eyes lit up. “Wanna watch?” She pointed to the living room TV frozen on Ash Ketchum’s face. She grabbed Mikasa’s hand before she could answer.

Annie was surprised by Rosie’s sudden lack of shyness. It took weeks for Rosie to warm up to Reiner and…“I’ll go cook us something,” Annie said abruptly.

“Oh. But your ankle…” Mikasa said.

She was already hobbling away. “Just relax and watch _Pokémon_ ,” she said. “I already feel better.”

“Come on, Mikasa!” she heard Rosie say. “We have all the DVDs. Let’s start from the first season!”

Annie guided herself into the kitchen. She’d have to figure out something to cook. There was a quick pasta recipe she sometimes did. She looked through the freezer and got out shrimp. She went to the cabinet for pasta and the fridge for cherry tomatoes, spinach, and milk. She combined the pasta with the milk and some water, setting it to heat on the stove. She chopped the cherry tomatoes in half and started the shrimp, de-tailed, in a frying pan. From the living room she could hear the _Pokémon_ theme begin. It seemed that Rosie and Mikasa were chatting. Good. Rosie had to be exposed to new people every now and then. And since Annie wasn’t really in the habit of making her own friends…

The pasta started simmering. Annie poured in the spinach and tomato halves, stirring ‘til the spinach shrank. She turned up the heat on the pan of shrimp and wandered into the living room.

“But I really like Bulbasaur,” Rosie was saying.

“Bulbasaur?” Mikasa said. “How about its evolutions?”

Rosie shook her head. “They’re not cute.”

“I guess Charmander’s aren’t either,” Mikasa said.

“Charmeleon’s an ugly, awkward teenager,” Annie threw in.

Rosie and Mikasa turned to her.

“My sister is mean,” Rosie said.

“I know,” Mikasa said with a smile, her eyes on Annie. “But I’m the one who hurt her today. How does your head feel?”

“I don’t even notice it,” Annie said honestly. “Really. My ankle though…” Even now she was balancing on her left foot.

“No gym for Annie!” Mikasa said.

Annie gave her an evil grin. “I’m gonna milk this for all it’s worth... I have to check on the food.” She half-hopped back to the kitchen. The shrimp were ready. Annie dumped them into the pasta. It all smelled good. She covered the top in parmesan cheese and stirred.

“It’s done,” she yelled and began to load it onto three plates. Rosie came running, Mikasa walking in behind her. Annie put the food on the table and got out forks. At last there were three people, all eating together. Like a family.

“It looks great,” Mikasa said.

“Annie always cooks this,” Rosie muttered.

“You know you love it,” Annie said.

Rosie didn’t respond but began shoveling food into her mouth.

“Yeah,” Annie said, watching her sister. “Rosie just hates this.”

Mikasa laughed.

For a while they were silent, but Mikasa didn’t seem to be eating much, picking at her food, pushing the shrimp and tomatoes to one side.

“You don’t like it?” Rosie asked.

“Rosie,” Annie said. “Don’t call her out on it.”

“No, it’s okay,” Mikasa said. “I just don’t like shrimp. Or tomatoes.”

“Okay,” Rosie said happily, reaching to scoop Mikasa’s portion of shrimp and tomatoes onto her plate.

“Seriously, Rosie? Ask first,” Annie said.

“She doesn’t want them!”

“I don’t want them,” Mikasa said with a nod and a smile. She pushed her plate toward Rosie, who started eating the shrimp and tomatoes with her hands.

“You’re on thin ice, Ro,” Annie warned.

“What?” Rosie said through a mouthful.

“Fork.”

“Oh.” Rosie scraped the food onto her plate, saying through a mouthful, “Mikasa, you’re not cheerleading today.”

“Nope. They’ll have to build their pyramid without me.”

“You do pyramids?” Rosie burst out.

“Yeah.”

“Chew with your mouth shut, Ro. Hitch and the others are gonna be mad,” Annie said to Mikasa. “You’re their captain.”

“A few days without me won’t hurt them,” Mikasa said.

“A few?” Annie repeated.

“The anime club meeting. And the day I returned your clothes, I kinda left early.”

“If you wanna skip out that bad, you don’t need to use me as an excuse.”

“It’s not like I wanted to be around them after they did that to you, Annie.”

Annie’s heart stammered in her chest, and a lightness creeping into her brain. “Sure…”

“What’s wrong?” Mikasa asked.

“Nothing. It’s just, you’re being so…nice lately.”

Mikasa sighed. “Do you remember when I said I didn’t hate you? I meant that.”

Annie’s head wouldn’t slow down. This was not the Mikasa she knew. The Mikasa she’d trained herself to hate was receding into the past.

“In fact,” Mikasa went on, “I might even be starting to like you.”

“Ha…” Annie pressed a hand to her forehead, willing her mind to stop running hot.

“What’s wrong?” Mikasa asked. Her hand found Annie’s on the table. Her eyes became intense.

 _Mom Mode activated,_ Annie thought.

“Nothing,” Annie said, but her head pulsed. She was thinking only of Mikasa, banishing her thoughts before they could fully form. “I mean I hit my head pretty hard. Maybe it’s sinking in.”

“Does it hurt?” Rosie asked in a small voice. Annie had almost forgotten she was there.

“No, Ro. I’m okay.”

Mikasa stood suddenly, her chair screeching back against the tile.

Annie shut her eyes and waved her hands dismissively. “I was on my feet just fine.”

“No.”

“I cooked a whole meal.”

“ _No_ ,” Mikasa said. “We’re going to bed.”

 _We…_ Annie gave up thinking altogether. She stood with difficulty, mainly because of her ankle. Mikasa must have misinterpreted Annie’s wobbliness, because one arm hooked around Annie’s waist and pulled them close together. Again.

“God, Mikasa.”

Rosie flitted around them in deep concern.

“Shhh. Are you dizzy?” Mikasa said. “Where’s your room?”

Annie gestured feebly, ready to give up and let Mikasa carry her again. “Over there. Down the hall.”

“I’ll show you,” Rosie said, rushing ahead of them as if Annie’s life depended on it.

Her ankle throbbed. Her head felt not pained but…fuzzy. “It’s really just my ankle,” Annie said.

“Sure,” Mikasa said in a flat way that told Annie arguing was futile. They made their way down the hall.

“This one,” Rosie said, holding open the door. Annie’s room. She tried to see the messy little room through a stranger’s eyes: the black clot of tangled cords and video game controllers around the little TV that sat on the floor among haphazard towers of DVDs, video games, and manga; the anime posters and limited-edition character scrolls that coated the walls, barring the eye from the room’s original blue paintjob; and an unmade bed that Mikasa gently coaxed Annie to lie on. Annie gave silent thanks that her anime body pillow was turned upside down in a show of modesty.

But Mikasa only had eyes for Annie as she pulled her desk chair up next to her. “Under the covers,” she said.

Annie dutifully burrowed in, pulling the body pillow under with her. Rosie got in too, cuddling close. Annie felt a wave of tiredness. It had been a long start to her school year. She shut her eyes for only a moment when she felt a cool hand on her cheek. She opened her eyes, thinking it was Rosie. But Mikasa was inches from her face.

“Your pupils look fine,” Mikasa said.

Annie reached her hand out and lightly brushed Mikasa’s hand away. “See? I’m golden.”

Mikasa’s expression softened. “I still want you awake. For a little while.”

“Okay. Are we gonna…talk?”

Mikasa nodded.

“…About what?”

“I know what we can do,” Mikasa said. “As vice president, treasurer, and secretary, I hereby convene the second meeting of the Trost High Anime Club.”

Annie stared before saying, “You didn’t tell Hitch.”

“Hitch? Why would—”

“Anime club!” Rosie said. “Can I be the princess?”

Mikasa took her eyes of Annie and grinned at Rosie. “You can be the queen!”

“Are queens better than presidents?” Rosie asked.

“Much, much better,” Mikasa said happily.

“Hey, I founded—”

“Silence!” Rosie said and kicked her sister in the shin.

“Ow! Okay, fine. Anime club. Activities?”

Mikasa looked over at Annie’s piles of video games and stood up. “Our first order of business is making sure that Annie stays awake. Rosie, take care of her a minute.”

Rosie stiffened and sat up, intent on her new assignment. “Okay!” She took Annie’s cheeks in her hands and stared down at her.

 “Am I not allowed to blink?” Annie asked.

“…Carefully,” Rosie said.

“ _Final Fantasy_?” she heard Mikasa say. “I’ve heard it’s fun…”

Annie sat up. “It’s super fun,” she said before Mikasa turned and shot her a death glare that ordered her to lay back down. Appeased, Mikasa turned away, sifting now through a pile of manga and giving Annie a chance to observe her kneeling in profile. She couldn’t imagine what Mikasa must think of her. There were years of manga there, entire series collected piecemeal through her allowance. She had over half the volumes of _Naruto_ there, a costly, embarrassing mistake, especially humiliating now that Mikasa traced her hand over the volumes’ spines.

“Why do you like all this stuff?” Mikasa asked. “I mean I totally get it, because I like it too. But you…”

Annie thought for a moment. “Maybe it’s because Japan’s so far away. So far that I can pretend that all my problems would go away if I was over there.”

Mikasa laughed. Loudly.

“Hey,” Annie said. “It’s not funny.” Rosie started giggling from where she’d reburied herself in bed.

Mikasa shook her head. “I’m sorry.” She seemed to wipe away some tears. “I just think it’s funny you think that. You know, you can never escape yourself. You can go to the moon and back and still be the same person.”

“Yeah but…” Annie tried to gather her thoughts. “With awesome moon stories.”

Mikasa laughed again, more gently this time. “Well, you’re right about that. Do you think you wouldn’t come back? If you had the choice?”

Annie stared at her ceiling for a long time. “I dunno. I hope I would like it that much. But I really don’t know.”

“I’ve been there,” Mikasa said. “To Japan, I mean.” She stood and came back to her bedside chair.

“You have?!” Annie sat up on an elbow. Mikasa didn’t stop her this time.

“Mmhmm. When I was really little.”

“Do you remember anything?”

“Well...apparently we were in Tokyo awhile. So I remember lots of people and tall buildings.”

“Cool,” Annie said. “Gonna go back?”

Mikasa laughed and shook her head. “It’s so expensive.”

Annie lowered herself back down. “I know. I can’t wait to go though.”

Rosie poked her head out of the covers. “What about me?”

“I’ll just have to get you ready for the world. Then I can go.”

“You’re a good sister,” Mikasa said.

“Sure.” _But I’m not,_ she thought to herself. _I’m failing her already. I don’t have a job, I don’t do my school work so I can get a good scholarship to go to college and eventually make more money. I can’t protect her forever. Even now I…_

Rosie pulled Annie out of her thoughts. “Annie’s not a good sister. She makes me eat green peppers.”

“They’re good for you!” Annie said.

Rosie stuck out her tongue.

“Tongue in mouth,” Annie told her sternly. “I swear I didn’t raise her like this, Mikasa.”

“Oh,” Mikasa said. “Um…”

“What?”

“What about your parents…?”

Rosie groaned and curled under the covers, her head hidden.

“Mom’s gone,” Annie said. “Dad’s here. But he’s kind of not. We don’t really eat together anymore. He hermits himself in his room and reads books or something.”

Rosie tightened. This was obviously upsetting her.

“Oh,” Mikasa said. “Okay. I mean I under—”

“I’m not asking you to understand,” Annie said. The sharpness of her voice surprised all three of them. “Sorry. I mean, it is what it is.”

“Yes,” Mikasa said. “It is.”

“May I please be excused?” Rosie muttered, sitting up.

“Yes,” Annie said. They watched her go. Her footsteps faded down the hall, and her bedroom door closed.

 “You say that a lot,” Mikasa said quietly.

“What?”

“’It is what it is.’”

“Oh. Maybe. It’s kind of a philosophy.”

“It’s a good one,” Mikasa said.

Annie shrugged. “It’s all I have.”

“Still. It takes a strong person to accept all the bullshit present in their life.”

“I guess. And I say it, and it takes care of the now, but then…I never know what the _it_ will be tomorrow.”

“Nobody knows about tomorrow, Annie.” There was a bitter sadness in Mikasa’s voice, but when she at last looked up at her, Mikasa was smiling.

“Yeah…Well, I guess this anime club meeting was a bust, too.”

Mikasa checked her watch. “I’ve still got time.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Do you have _Cat Soup_?”

“You don’t really wanna watch that, do you?”

“I really do.”

“It should be in that pile,” Annie said, pointing to the stack of DVDs closest to the TV. Mikasa went over while Annie prayed that she wouldn’t find it: _Cat Soup_ had some bizarre stuff going on. Really. If Mikasa was truly beginning to “not dislike” her, this short film could ruin everything.

“Got it!” Mikasa said.

Annie almost groaned.

Mikasa came over, reading the back of the cover. “Okay. Living room?”

Annie nodded. She was getting used to the way Mikasa guided her on her bad ankle. She was getting used to leaning on her. She was getting used to being with her, to whatever it was pushing them against each other at every turn. When Annie eased herself onto the couch, Mikasa got the DVD player set up. The main menu screen came up, and the tinny, jewelry box music from the film’s end credits began.

Out of the corner of her eye, Annie saw a shadow in the hallway, peeking out from Rosie’s doorway. “Can you make some popcorn, Mikasa? In the high cabinet above the stove.”

Annie darted her eyes at Rosie. Mikasa glanced over and said, “Oh. Sure thing.”

Annie laid her head back and closed her eyes, listening to the cabinets opening and closing in the other room. She didn’t open her eyes when Rosie crawled into her lap without a sound. The music played, slow and haunting. They listened for a while, until Annie opened her eyes and said, “Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey.”

“What’s up?”

Rosie didn’t answer.

“Listen, Roro” Annie said. “I know it sucks. About dad being a space case. And about mom. Especially mom.”

“Yeah,” Rosie said. “Annie, do you think she’ll ever come back?”

Annie was silent for a long time before saying, “Would you want her to?”

“I don’t know…what it would be like.”

“Yeah. We might be better off.”

“Were you sad?” Rosie said with a sniffle.

“When she left?”

“Yeah.”

“Not at all.”

Rosie looked up at her.

“I was furious.”

“Can I be furious too?”

Annie chuckled. “Sure. It helps sometimes.”

“Was Daddy…always like that?”

Annie sighed. “No. He was better. He used to read to me. Mom too.” She closed her eyes again. “It was all alright.”

Rosie sniffled. Annie pulled her close. “If I ever get to Japan, you’re coming with me. No matter what. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Annie squeezed her tight. “Mikasa’s making popcorn,” she said loud enough for her to hear from the kitchen.

“She won’t burn it like you will?”

“Hm. Hope not.”

She heard the dying sounds of the kernels followed by the microwave door opening and closing. Mikasa came in with a big yellow bowl and a bag of ice.

Annie nodded at her.

Rosie scampered off Annie’s lap and took the bowl of popcorn.

“For your ankle,” Mikasa said, holding up the ice bag.

Annie propped her foot on the coffee table. Gently, Mikasa surrounded Annie’s ankle with the bag.

“Not too cold is it? I got a dish towel you can use later so you don’t get ice burn.”

“I’m okay.” She had a strong feeling that Mikasa had done this before, if only for herself.

“Are you watching _Cat Soup_ with us?” Mikasa said to Rosie.

“What are you doing?” Annie asked, watching her sister’s arm digging elbow-deep in popcorn.

“The best popcorn sits on the bottom,” Rosie said, triumphantly pulling up a fistful.

Annie sighed. “Sure. We can start the movie now.”

Mikasa pressed play. The melancholy music was replaced by a happy tune and the sounds of footsteps as the camera tracked a trail of inky pawprints. Annie held her breath. The beginning of the movie was alright, but it got weird fast.

They watched in silence as the family of cats went about their lives. The older sister died, but the little brother saved her soul—half of it—and put it back in her body. The sister’s eyes became foggy, half-closed. _She wasn’t there,_ Annie always thought, and it made her sad each time. For the rest of the movie, the older sister would sit slumped and disinterested, even as the most fantastical events unfolded around her. The world ran by without her reaction. Until the flower, until she got back the other half of her soul. Annie looked down at Rosie, stuffing her face with popcorn, her brow furrowed as she tried to figure out what was happening in the film.

The brother and sister went to a circus, Rosie abandoning the popcorn and squeezing Annie tight when the magician’s assistant was chopped into little pieces.

“She’ll be okay,” Annie said, kissing Rosie on the head.

When the assistant was all put back together again, Annie reached into the popcorn bowl, only to find her own hand covering Mikasa’s. She jerked away at the unexpected touch. Mikasa didn’t say anything.

In fact, Mikasa hadn’t said anything this whole time. Annie glanced at her. Mikasa’s focus on the TV didn’t falter. Annie didn’t know if that was a good thing. Maybe she was so weirded out that she couldn’t look away.

The movie got stranger. The siblings sat on a boat in the middle of an ocean, and the little brother had a weird thought about what would happen after he relieved himself in the water: a bird would take the waste and feed it to her chicks, who would poop it out, causing a flower to grow with the boy and his sister inside it. Annie had forgotten this part. Completely. It was one of those poetic but ultimately offbeat moments that made up the film. She didn’t dare look at Mikasa.

“Gross!” Rosie said.

“Yeah…uh, sorry,” Annie said, hoping Mikasa knew that Annie knew it was totally weird with her.

“I like the piggy,” Rosie said about the pig that was on the boat with them. Annie didn’t know why the pig was even there. He just sort of showed up and chilled with the cats.

“Yeah. About that…” Annie said. Rosie gasped when the little brother unzipped the pig and stole a few pieces of meat, eating it in front of him.

“He’s okay?” Rosie said.

“For now.”

It wasn’t like Annie could stop the movie. The ocean became a desert, and Rosie cried out when they killed the pig by beating it with sticks.

“Sorry, Ro…”

Mikasa maintained her silence as the cats traveled through the desert, winding up in a strange man’s house, where he placed them in a bubbling pot of soup. As the characters relaxed in their hot bath, oblivious, the strange man walked away, and Annie nearly had a heart attack as it dawned on her what happened next: the man came running back, brandishing a huge pair of scissors he’d use to chop off the cats’ heads. All while dressed in leather fetish gear.

“What the heck?” Rosie asked. “This movie is weird.”

“Oh, uh, yeah…Sorry, I forgot about that part too,” Annie said, red-faced.

Mikasa let out a tiny snort. Annie turned to her, horrified.

“Um…I’m sorry…” Annie said.

Mikasa’s shoulders shook. “No, no! That was great. Oh my God!” She kept laughing.

“Heh. I guess…Yeah.” Annie chuckled as the younger brother trapped the man in the pot and ran off with his sister. They were definitely past the strangest part of the movie now. She could relax.

As the cats reentered the desert, the camera cut to what appeared to be God and a grand, gear-filled machine. God pulled a lever, shifting time forward, ushering the young cats into old age. Until he reversed it, and fish walked backwards into the sea, and atom bombs came undone, and the world unwound itself in the blink of an eye. Mikasa had inhaled through her teeth as a woman holding a child uncrashed herself from a car windshield. Annie looked at her. For once, she seemed truly moved, eyes wide as she watched blades of guillotines sliding upward, as lines of men with bags over their heads sat up, the bullets pulled from their skulls sucked back into the guns of their executioners. Annie could watch this scene forever, but now she couldn’t take her eyes off Mikasa.

“I don’t like this,” Rosie said tearily.

Annie held her close. “I’m sorry, Roro. I shouldn’t have shown this to you.”

Rosie groaned as she pushed her face into Annie’s side. After a few minutes, Annie whispered to her, “Look, they found the flower. She has her soul back, and they can go home.”

Rosie sat up. They watched as the ending played out. The family of cats sat happily eating dinner in front of a TV, but when the boy went into the bathroom, his father winked out of existence with a loud blip. Then his mother. Their TV turned to static. His sister did the same. The boy returned to an empty living room, and the lights in his house flickered as the camera panned out. The screen went black, as if Annie’s TV had shut off. But that was it. The end of the movie. A horrible silence until a static burst. The first time Annie had seen it, she had cried. Why did the whole family have to vanish like that? Why was it just the little boy, in the dark and alone? What happened next? Would anyone come back for him? What kind of ending… The jewelry box music began, a moving snapshot of the family on the beach playing, rewinding, going forward, only to go back. The credits rolled in incomprehensible kanji.

The three girls sat on the couch, silent until Rosie said, “What _was_ that?”

“Um. _Cat Soup_?” Annie said, looking at Mikasa.

The other girl still had her eyes trained on the screen. Her face remained inscrutable.

“What do you think?” Annie finally said after Rosie walked off.

“I love it,” Mikasa said softly. She looked at Annie then, grinning. “It was amazing, Annie!”

“Oh…really?”

“Yeah, dude. What are we watching next time?”

“Next…”

“Yeah!”

“I dunno. You can pick.”

Mikasa shook her head. “It has to be something we haven’t seen before. You probably have a list of stuff you wanna watch.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Annie chewed her lip, thinking. “So we’re…doing this next week? Another meeting?”

Mikasa turned and stared while Annie took a handful of popcorn.

“If you want.”

Annie swallowed her popcorn before saying, “I’ll think about it.”

“Ha. Okay.”

“Thanks. For, um, everything.”

“Yeah. No problem. How is it?” Mikasa asked.

“What?”

She pointed to Annie’s ankle.

 “Oh. It feels better.”

“That’s good. Is your face bothering you?”

“Why, is it bothering you?”

Mikasa laughed. “No, but it looks like it hurts.”

“I don’t notice it that much.” Annie brought a hand up to her nose.

“It’s been a long couple weeks, huh?”

“Yeah,” Annie laughed. They fell silent, until Rosie came back and put in a _Pokémon_ DVD. They watched a few episodes until Annie didn’t know what time it was anymore. She felt herself nodding off more and more, the weight of today’s events dragging her downward. Before she knew it, she was asleep.

When she woke, in the dark, alone, she snuggled under the blanket that someone had draped over her and closed her eyes. She knew that if she went looking, she could find her sister asleep in her bed. She could find her dad in his room, in his chair, a book in his lap. She could find her mother, somewhere, if she ever wanted to be found. And she could find Mikasa, anywhere, everywhere; without even looking, she’d be there. She leaned into the thought, and she slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't allow my description of Cat Soup to scare you off. I loved it.
> 
> Forgot to tell you that constructive criticism is encouraged. I'm mostly okay with anything you can throw at me (I've been doing this for a bit). I'll cringe when you point out typos, but tell me so I can fix them.


	4. Sidelines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikasa laughed. “You know,” she said, “that was when I first really noticed you.”
> 
> Annie shook her head. “I always noticed you.”
> 
> “Really?”
> 
> Annie felt her face heat up. But she didn’t fight it. The only thing she said, softly, was, “Yeah, I guess.”

Annie stretched like a languid cat, standing up from the couch and rolling the crick from her neck. She limped down the hall, past Rosie’s closed door, through which she could hear the soundtrack to _Shrek_ playing, her sister singing along. Annie smiled. _Shrek_ had come out when Annie was a literal baby, but in a few years’ time it was her absolute favorite movie. Her parents had probably thought they’d heard the last of Smash Mouth by the time she’d entered 6th grade. Until she turned Rosie onto the movie.

She went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Her nose was still slightly swollen and red. The bruises under her eyes had gone from black to yellow and purple. The pain didn’t bother her, but she’d be glad to get back to normal. Her messy bun was worse than ever since she’d slept on it. She loosened it, letting her hair fall to her shoulders. She ran her fingers through it, hating it like always. It was a bit wavy and unruly enough that Annie had long ago decided to just not deal with it. Maybe this was lazy, but she had better things to do than fuss with it all the time. She wondered suddenly what Mikasa did with her hair. It was super straight, sleek, and mesmerizing when it was blown back as she scored shot after shot in lacrosse.

Annie would get out of gym today. Would get to watch Mikasa for as long as she wanted. Not that she wanted to. Not that she would. Annie blinked at herself in the mirror. What did it matter? She bet that Mikasa’s hair was naturally like that. Besides, a girl like her could afford super nice shampoo. She remembered yesterday, when she was hobbling home with Mikasa, how sweet her hair had smelled. Annie combed a hand through her own hair and looked at herself, startled to see that she was blushing. It didn’t have to mean anything. It couldn’t. She wrote these thoughts off as annoying and started to strip off her clothes.

She hadn’t even changed into pajamas the night before. Her unicorn hoodie fell to the floor along with her jeans. Bra. Underwear. She didn’t like to look at her body, but she did now. She always thought she could only be defined as scrawny. Her arms were thin, her legs were sticks, but her stomach was flat—a miracle when she considered her poor diet. And her breasts were a nice size. She’d never show them off, opting for her hoodie and other loose clothing, but she didn’t altogether dislike them as she did everything else.

She took off her glasses and adjusted the temperature of the shower, making it super hot. Stepping in, she wetted her hair, a soothing feeling coming over her as she rubbed the heat into her scalp. Annie stood on one foot for most of her showertime, carefully balancing or leaning against the wall so she wouldn’t slip. She shampooed her hair and slicked her body with the extra foam of it, reveling in the slippery sensation all over. She began to think about the day. She’d go back to Mr. Smith’s today, first thing. _Please don’t think about teachers while you’re naked,_ she thought to herself. Besides, she didn’t want to think about all she’d missed, about if he’d still be mad at her. Annie rinsed out her hair and put in conditioner, washing her face and body while it set in. She sighed: it was time to get out soon, put on clothes, gather her school stuff, head out the door. She got the conditioner out of her hair and spent a minute with her head leaned back in the steamy water, eyes closed.

Just as she was about to turn off the shower and pull back the curtain, the door burst open.

“BYE, ANNIE!” Rosie yelled, overcompensating for the sound of the water running.

Annie peeked out, squinting at her. “Rosie, what the heck? I was this close to flashing you.” She ducked back in and turned the water off. “And you’re leaving already?” She reached an arm out of the curtain and groped around for her towel.

“Yeah?” Rosie said. “I was waiting for you to finish, but you’re taking forever. Daddy’s waiting for me outside. And I don’t wanna hug you naked, so… Have a good day at school!”

“What—”

The door slammed, and Annie was alone again.

“What time is it?” she said to herself. She wrapped herself in a fluffy green towel and put on her glasses. Annie went into the hall as fast as her ankle would allow and called after her sister.

Rosie was almost out the door. “What?”

“Why didn’t you wake me? Am I late for school?” Annie felt dread grow in her stomach. Rosie’s school day started a half-hour later than hers. Annie couldn’t be late to math class. Not today.

“You’re mean when I wake you up.” Then she checked her Hello Kitty watch and delivered the deathblow. “And yeah, it’s 8:25.”

“FUCK!”

Rosie gasped, but Annie was already rushing to the bathroom. “Tell Dad to wait, okay?”

“But—”

“Please!” Annie slammed the door and got into yesterday’s clothes. She tied her hair up without blow-drying it and started calculating. _Less than 5 minutes to get ready. Less than 10 minutes for Dad to drive me there. Maybe 7 if he really steps on it._ That left Annie showing up at least 40 minutes late.

“Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.” She hardly paid attention to her ankle as she ran around the house, stuffing notebooks, folders, and loose papers into her backpack. The pain really flared up when she got out the door, and she practically lurched to the car. When she got in, her dad just stared at her, waiting a long moment before saying, “Why were you walking like that?”

“Just—I hurt my ankle. I’m like super late for school, Dad, so drop off Rosie second. We need to go.”

He looked at her for another agonizing beat. “Hold on,” he said and unbuckled his seatbelt.

“What are you doing?!”

“I’m gonna be late too!” Rosie complained from the back. He opened the door and left it open, dashing into the house.

“Fucking balls,” Annie moaned after she closed the driver side door. She reclined her seat all the way back and closed her eyes tight. It would take too long to walk to school. First period would be over by then. Second too. “Goddamn _Cat Soup._ ”

“Do you really need to swear so much?” Rosie asked. Annie opened her eyes, her sister looming over her, upside down.

“Yes. I really feel that I do.”

“Hmph.”

“What’s taking him so long?” Annie said after a minute.

“Calm down. He’s coming now,” Rosie said.

Annie pulled the lever to jolt her seat back up. Her father was walking down the driveway with something in his hand. He opened the door and leaned in to hand Annie a slim, black cane.

“Here you go,” he said, getting back in, buckling, and shifting the car into reverse.

“Where did you…”

But Annie knew. He knew that she knew. Still, her father told her, “It was your mom’s.” He backed out of the driveway and turned down the street. Nothing more was said, until they reached Trost High and Annie thanked him for the ride.

“Bye, Annie,” Rosie said for the second time that day.

“Bye! Sorry I made you late.” Annie slammed the car door before she could hear her response and headed up the sidewalk to the front doors.

The cane made things easier. She got into the rhythm of walking and pulled her phone out. It was 8:42. Class would be over in 8 minutes. Annie sped through the empty halls and slammed the elevator’s up button, waiting a horrible half-minute for the thing to arrive. Another 20 seconds to reach the second floor, 20 more to get to the classroom. She paused. And braced herself to open the door.

Mr. Smith froze at whatever he was saying. For a long, impossibly stretched-out microsecond, Annie stood in the doorway, head hung, until she moved to enter and he went on speaking. She sat next to Mikasa and placed her cane on the floor. She could tell that everyone was staring at her, and it certainly didn’t help that Mikasa wasn’t even trying to hide it. Annie glanced at her, irritated. The other girl looked down to scribble something in her spiral.

Annie got out her own spiral. It didn’t matter. She’d never taken any notes in this class before. She’d never understand the intimidating wall of matrices Mr. Smith had been drawing on the board.

Suddenly, Mikasa reached over and set something on Annie’s desk. Annie balked at her, but Mikasa had gone back to taking notes. Annie looked down. _That’s what it is. A note._

She brought the tiny slip of paper into her lap. It was folded half a dozen times, and when she spread it out, Mikasa’s message said, in simple, microscopic print, “I think he’s really mad at you.”

Annie flushed and looked at Mr. Smith. He went on lecturing, looking at Mikasa, Connie and Sasha, Historia, Hitch and her gang, never once glancing at Annie.

She gulped and wrote a reply on the back. “I woke up late.”

Mikasa’s response came a moment later. “Shit.”

“That’s what I said,” Annie wrote. Class wrapped up in a couple minutes.

“Remember to turn in your topic proposals on Friday,” Mr. Smith told them over the sound of binders clicking shut, of backpacks zipping with their metallic whine. He looked at the clock. And walked over to Annie’s desk.

Annie held her breath. She looked up at him, trying to write as much guilt over her face as possible: pissed off teachers liked to see you repentant.

“Are you okay?” he said, gesturing to her cane.

“Uh…Yeah, I just, um…m’ankle…”

“You should have asked your parents for a ride,” he said with some concern.

Annie looked at him like he’d just released her from prison. “Right, um, they leave for work early.”

He nodded. “Okay. Well, I’m glad you made it today. Sort of,” he said with a slight smile.

“Yeah," she said, relieved. “Me too.”

“Come by when you’re free and I’ll give you the worksheets you’ve missed.”

“I’ll get her caught up on notes,” Mikasa said. She had a huge grin on her face, knowing full well Annie had gotten away with murder only a second ago.

“Okay. Thanks,” Annie said. She could tell Mikasa was about to burst out laughing.

“We can come here during lunch?” Mikasa said to Mr. Smith as she hurried out the door.

“Uh, sure,” he said, but Mikasa was already gone, and Annie heard her, almost cackling, as she disappeared down the hall.

 

Her next class dragged on as she waited to go to AP art. When she got there, Petra had a new pile of junk in the middle of the room: a large potted ficus very in need of some watering, a framed painting of George Washington leaning against it, and a puffy winter coat draped over a chair. Where did she find all this stuff? Petra gave them 1 minute, 5 minutes, and 15 minutes to complete some gesture drawings of them.

Annie was in her element, even as she chatted with Jean and Marco. The 5-minute drawing she could admit didn’t turn out great, but her 15-minute piece was good enough to earn praise.

“You’ve got a great eye for detail,” Petra said to Annie warmly.

“…Thanks,” Annie said, almost blushing at how nice Petra was being.

“You should join art club,” she said. “It’s starting today.”

“I told her that,” Jean said. “She doesn’t want to.”

“You don’t?” Petra said with a worried expression.

“I’ll think about it,” Annie said. She wasn’t so sure she wanted to put herself out there and…make friends. Mikasa, whatever she was at this point, was enough for the time being.

 

At lunchtime, Annie headed to Mr. Smith’s room, waiting for Mikasa to arrive. He gave her the worksheets she’d missed and filled in a few details.

“These are mostly review sheets. Don’t worry if you don’t understand all of them. You and Mikasa will have to pick your topic for your first presentation by the end of the week, so you don’t have to pick anything too complex. Mikasa already has some ideas for you.”

“Of course she does,” Annie said, almost amused.

“So you two are friends now?”

“Uh. No. No one ever said that.”

“Ah. Well. Maybe that will change,” he said with a knowing smile.

Before Annie could argue, Mikasa walked in, followed by the janitor. “Hey,” Mikasa said stiffly. The janitor and Mr. Smith started chatting. Apparently they were going to eat lunch together.

“Sup?” Annie said to Mikasa.

“Nothing,” Mikasa said. She got out her math stuff.

“Are you sure?” Annie asked.

Mikasa looked over at their teacher and the janitor leaving together, lunch bags in hand. “No. It’s nothing.”

“Hm.”

Mikasa sighed. “Just…some bullshit with cheerleading.”

“Oh. Okay. It’s…not because of me, is it?” Annie thought of all the times Mikasa had ditched cheer. At least three times. All for Annie.

“Well…No. It’s Hitch being her usual self.”

Annie nodded. “…Yeah.” She tapped her pen on her empty spiral, allowing the awkward silence to eat away at them.

“So,” Mikasa said finally. “I’ll help you catch up.”

“Great. Mr. Smith gave me some worksheets.”

“Cool. And you heard about the topic proposal?”

“Yeah,” Annie said. “What do you wanna do?”

“I was thinking we could do something on the history of cryptography.”

“Like encryption?” Annie asked

“Yeah! It’s on the recommended list. I’ll handle the advanced math stuff if it’s too hard. I don’t actually know much about it, but it shouldn’t involve anything above your level.”

“Sounds good,” Annie said. She thought back to how arrogant her former math tutor had acted in freshman year. There was none of that today. But as Mikasa went on to bring her up to speed with class, she talked about math subjects that still went far over Annie’s head.

When they were about to leave, Mikasa said, “Mr. Smith will help you. I’m a terrible tutor, right?” She said it with a smile that Annie returned.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

 

When Annie got to French class, Hitch was chatting up Mina and Hannah. She cast a sly look at Annie and said, “Of course, Mikasa ditched us again yesterday.”

Annie swallowed the bad feeling in her throat.

“Yeah. Why does she keep doing that?” Hannah asked.

“Just ask Annie,” Hitch said.

Annie glared at her. “Maybe because Mikasa’s a decent person and walked me home yesterday?”

“Please,” Hitch said. “You’re not calling me indecent, are you?”

“I mean, if I _had_ to compare you to Mikasa…”

Hitch glared at her. Obviously it was the wrong thing to say. Hitch’s voice iced over. “You really think she likes you?”

“What do you…”

“Think about it, Annie. She just pities you.”

“That’s stupid,” Annie muttered, getting out her notes.

But she did think about it. Mikasa had walked her home, had decided to stay over for dinner. She was really nice to Rosie. And really cool about their whole family situation. Was it for real? The awful feeling rose back up in Annie’s throat. She couldn’t get rid of it.

“Poor Annie,” Hitch sighed. With that, the bell rang, and Mlle Nanaba began teaching.

 

Last period, she went to Shadis’s office.

“Hey,” she said. “Mikasa messed up my ankle pretty bad yesterday so…”

“So you want to sit out. Fine. Tomorrow get a note from the nurse saying how long you’ll take to recover. You must feel very lucky given your lack of effort in my class.”

Annie didn’t know how to answer that. She shrugged and, when it seemed he no longer had anything else to say, left. She locked her stuff in her gym locker. She didn’t have to change, so she stood around for a few minutes, leaning on her cane. Mikasa was changing at her locker. Annie snuck a look at her incredibly muscular back, at those arms that had so easily carried Annie yesterday. She looked away, ashamed to ogle her friend. If that’s what they were. Hitch’s cruel observations flowed back into her mind.

Mikasa and Hitch chose today’s lacrosse teams, and Annie tried not to remember all those times she was picked last. By Hitch. By Mikasa. When they went outside, Annie sat on the sidelines with her cane in her lap, flipping it over in her hands again and again. The only downside was sitting right next to Shadis as he shouted at the girls for dropping the ball or generally not paying attention. She glanced up to see Mikasa launch the ball from her stick, throwing it to her teammate who shot it into the goal.

Mikasa could probably contend against the boys playing lacrosse on the other field. Could probably be a wrestling star or the football team’s quarterback. _She would demolish her enemies_ , Annie thought. Mikasa could do anything she wanted.

Annie let out a breath. She didn’t like new emotions. But there was something about Mikasa. They were getting closer and closer. Annie couldn’t tell if her own heartbeat was getting faster at the thought of it out of fear or out of joy.

So Annie continued to watch. Mikasa scored more than a few goals, never really celebrating. Though from this distance, Annie thought she saw a ferocity in Mikasa’s demeanor whenever she snuck a ball into the net. The way she carried herself, strong and confident, was amplified every time she succeeded. Annie pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin. Mikasa was truly amazing, wasn’t she? And somehow she was so humble about everything. Annie rued her own previous judgments on Mikasa, how she thought she was a stuck-up bitch, so good at anything she attempted.

She sighed again. Turns out it didn’t feel good. Being called a bitch.

Soon it was time to file back inside. Annie found herself at Mikasa’s side.

“Good game today,” Annie told her, unsure of what else she could say.

“I can’t believe Hitch intercepted. You know that one time? That could have lost us the whole game.”

“But it didn’t,” Annie said, smiling at Mikasa. She’d won by a huge margin.

“Hmm. But I don’t like it.”

Annie had to laugh at that. “You _won,_ Mikasa. Why are you beating yourself up?”

Mikasa shrugged. “I’m physically incapable of being bad at sports. It’s like an allergic reaction.”

Annie nodded her head. “Yeah. The uneven bars?”

Mikasa seemed to stiffen beside her. “Oh. You remember that.”

“Yeah. I remember your flawless routine the next week.”

“You were refilling basketballs…”

“Shadis caught me swearing under my breath during class. So I got put on ball duty.”

Mikasa laughed. “You know,” she said, “that was when I first really noticed you.”

Annie shook her head. “I always noticed you.”

“Really?”

Annie felt her face heat up. But she didn’t fight it. The only thing she said, softly, was, “Yeah, I guess.”

They entered the locker room together. “Wait while I change,” Mikasa said.

Annie stood awkwardly by as Mikasa stripped off her shirt, noting Mikasa’s killer abdominals. To put it plainly, she was fucking ripped. Annie was glad she didn’t have to change next to her. She was…lanky at best.

Mikasa got into her cheerleading shirt and dropped her gym shorts, kicking them aside. Her underwear had pink and white horizontal stripes. Annie, leaning against a locker, glanced away. Her face once again heated up for…some reason. When she looked back at Mikasa she was fully dressed in her uniform. She looked great.

“I have to get stuff from my locker upstairs,” Annie said, the words tumbling out as she vied for escape.

“I’ll go with you,” Mikasa said happily.

“Are you sure? It’s kinda far.”

“It’s all good.”

 They walked together and got into the tiny elevator. Mikasa was still going on about her mistakes in her lacrosse game that day.

“Poor you,” Annie said. “How do you manage?”

Mikasa laughed, but it was quickly cut off as the elevator door slid open. Annie looked to see what had silenced Mikasa. There was no one there except the janitor, setting out a wet floor sign. He glared up at the two of them, shaking his head as he walked away.

“What’s wrong?” Annie asked.

“Nothing,” Mikasa said. “Where’s your locker?”

“Bumfuck nowhere. Just like this town.”

Mikasa laughed, but it sounded forced.

“What is going on with you?” Annie asked.

“N-nothing,” Mikasa said, so obviously lying that Annie facepalmed.

“Whatever. Anyway. My locker is in an abandoned corner. Down here.”

When they got there, Mikasa leaned against a locker and closed her eyes. Annie stared openly as she loaded her backpack with books. Mikasa looked exhausted.

“Cheerleading today?” Annie asked as she closed her locker. She didn’t know what else to say.

“Yeah,” Mikasa said, opening her eyes and frowning.

“Hey. It’ll be alright.”

“I know. Hey, uh, can I give you my number? For the topic proposal and stuff?”

Annie’s eyes widened. “Yeah. Totally.”

They pulled out their phones and stopped at the elevator. Annie gave her her number and pressed the down button.

“Okay. Cool,” Mikasa said. The elevator door opened, and Annie stepped inside.

“I have to go to my locker real quick,” Mikasa said, looking down to type something into her phone. “Test text,” she said, and Annie’s phone buzzed just as the elevator doors began to close.

Annie opened a text from an unknown number. “See you tomorrow :)” Annie shook her head and saved Mikasa’s info to her phone.

 

Annie arrived home just as Rosie was getting out of the car in the driveway. She sprang into Annie’s arms.

“Hey, kiddo!” Annie said as she tried to negotiate Rosie’s weight pressed against her. She dropped her cane, putting pressure on her ankle, but the stab of pain was lessened this time.

Her dad walked past the two of them, not thinking to say a word of greeting as he headed inside. He was off in his own world. So Annie ignored him like he did her.

“Do you have homework?” Annie asked.

Rosie wrinkled her face up. “Yes.”

“Well, I’ll help you with that. Then we can watch something together.”

“Okay!” Rosie went to the kitchen table, unloading her homework quickly.

“What’s the rush?” Annie asked.

“I wanna watch _Pokémon_ ,” Rosie said.

Annie smiled. “Okay. We’ll get this done quickly. But does that mean you don’t want milk and cookies while we work?”

Rosie gaped. “We have cookies?!”

“I have some hidden in my room.”

Rosie, abandoning her homework, sprinted down the hall.

“Hey!” Annie called after her. When she got to her room, she saw Rosie’s little butt wiggling under the bed.

“Not there,” Annie said, headed for the closet. She reached up to the top shelf and was barely tall enough to get the package of Oreos down.

Rosie escaped the confines of the bed and snatched the cookies out of Annie’s hands, running with them into the kitchen.

Annie followed. By the time she caught up to her, Rosie was already getting the milk out.

“I’ll pour,” Annie said, grabbing up the gallon and finding two glasses. “Get your homework ready.”

Annie heard the crinkle of the Oreos package being savagely ripped open.

“Homework!” Annie repeated and filled their glasses high with milk. She went to the table to see Rosie with two cookies in her mouth, digging around in her backpack. She got out a math worksheet. Simple addition. This Annie could handle.

Annie looked the sheet over. “Okay, little chipmunk. Let’s look at this first one. Two plus seven…”

Rosie was sipping her milk and chewing at the same time. She reached for a third cookie. Annie pulled the package out of her reach.

“Two plus seven,” Annie said again.

Rosie counted on her fingers. “Nine.”

“Yeah.” Annie handed Rosie a cookie.

They went on like this for a while. She didn’t give Rosie a cookie every time she got an answer right, but together they devoured over half of the Oreos and finished Rosie’s worksheet.

“ _Pokémon_?” Annie asked.

“I wanna watch one of _your_ animes,” Rosie said.

“Hmm, okay. I rented one that’s supposed to be really cute.”

They went to the living room.

“What’s it called?”

“ _K-On_. It’s about a music club. Like a band.”

“’Kay.”

They watched a few episodes, and it proved to be cuter than expected. Rosie preferred having the subtitles and so did Annie, but that meant Annie having to read her little sister everything that was said. Rosie sat in Annie’s lap, but soon she was nodding off.

“Kiddo,” Annie said, shaking Rosie. “It’s only 6 o’clock.”

Rosie stirred.

“Are you crashing from the sugar?”

Rosie sat up. “Want more cookies.”

“No,” Annie said. “Not today. Shit. We need dinner.”

“Mickey’s?” It was what she called McDonald’s.

“Okay. Hotcakes and fries?”

“Yeah.”

Annie knew it wasn’t healthy, but she didn’t feel like cooking tonight. They lived a short walk from the restaurant. When they got there, there was a long line. Of cheerleaders.

Annie ran a hand through her hair. She didn’t want to deal with Hitch again, but Rosie sighted Mikasa and fell into her arms with a happy squeal. The other girls looked surprised but grinned at the cute little girl.

“Hi, Rosie,” Mikasa said.

Hitch was right next to Mikasa. She looked boredly from Rosie to Annie. “Your sister?” she asked.

Annie nodded.

“Uh. Hi,” Hitch said. The line moved slowly. So slowly. Rosie looked at Hitch as she clutched at Annie’s leg.

 “Can we sit with you, Mikasa?” Rosie asked.

“Of course,” Mikasa said, her eyes flitting to Annie’s. Briefly Annie wondered how Rosie would do with a table full of strangers. She could wonder the same for herself.

The girls ahead of them ordered, and Annie got a fish sandwich for herself. Rosie tugged on her sleeve. “I want the hotcakes,” she whispered.

“Then order them,” Annie said.

Rosie looked aghast. “You do it."

Annie turned to the cashier. “I guess she doesn’t want anything!”

Rosie set her mouth in a firm line, then said in a rush,“I WANT HOTCAKES. AND A MCFLURRY. WITH EXTRA EXTRA M&MS.”

“Hey!” Annie said. “Why are you making me pay for a surprise ice cream?”

Rosie clutched Annie’s hand and said through gritted teeth, “Why are you making me order?”

“Uh, to build up your confidence? You’ll thank me later.”

When they got all of their food they put some tables together. Rosie sat between Mikasa and Mina, leaving Annie across from them.

“I’m trying not to be jealous,” Annie said flatly, Rosie practically in Mikasa’s lap.

“Breakfast all day,” Rosie said to Mikasa, shoving a pancake into her mouth and ignoring her sister.

“Yeah,” Mikasa said happily.

They ate. Annie listened to the girls talk about their cheer routines.

“Do you throw each other in the air?” Rosie asked.

“We sure do,” Mina said. Rosie smiled at her. Annie was reminded of how sweet Mina could be when she was on her own. Hannah and Hitch were bad influences on her.

Rosie was a huge hit with them, but they all seemed to ignore Annie. She could feel their general coldness toward her, but she was used to the outsider status. Rosie seemed to notice when she said, “My sister could be a good cheerleader. Can she join you?”

A silence fell over the table.

“Uh,” Annie said. “No, Rosie. I wouldn’t be good at that.”

Hitch smirked and whispered something to Hannah, making her laugh.

Rosie pressed on. “Then you guys could join anime club. We did it yesterday.”

“Yesterday. With Mikasa?” Hannah asked.

“Yes?” Rosie said, a nervous grin on her face. She didn’t understand what was happening. She couldn’t.

“It’s not a big deal,” Annie said to Hannah. “She needed to get me home. So she stayed awhile.”

“It’s okay, Annie,” Mikasa said calmly. “It won’t happen again.”

Annie’s blood ran cold. She knew what Mikasa meant, but…

“Did I do something wrong?” Rosie said, on the verge of crying.

“Oh no, honey,” Mina said, putting an arm around her. “It’s okay.”

Rosie sniffed and nodded.

“I think we should go,” Annie said. Rosie stood, understanding that there was something wrong here that couldn’t be fixed. They went and threw their trash away. Rosie held Annie’s hand and waved goodbye to the girls.

“Bye,” Mikasa said. She cast her eyes down.

“Rosie,” Annie said when they got outside. “I don’t want you making friends with those girls. Except Mikasa.”

Rosie nodded. “Those girls are mean to you.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Rosie stared up at her as they walked.

“I don’t know, Rosie. They’re just rude.”

“But Mikasa’s not rude.”

“No. Mikasa’s nice.”

“You really don’t have friends?” Rosie asked cautiously.

“Not especially.”

“But Mikasa…”

“Nah,” Annie said. “Not Mikasa either.”

Rosie stopped and looked up, tears in her eyes.

“Don’t cry,” Annie said, crouching down and holding Rosie by the shoulders. Now she was ready to cry herself. “Roro. You’re the only friend I need. Seriously.

“It’s not fair,” Rosie whimpered.

“I know,” Annie said. “Believe me.”

Annie’s phone chirped at her. It was a text from Mikasa.

Mikasa: Hey.

“Hold on,” Annie said to Rosie.

Annie: Sup?

Mikasa: I’m sorry about the girls. I’m getting sick of this.

“Who is it?” Rosie asked.

Annie: It’s okay. I’m used to it.

Mikasa: I was thinking about something

“Nobody,” Annie said, not taking her eyes off the phone.

Mikasa: Tomorrow we should have lunch

Annie’s heart rate increased.

Annie: No. I don’t want to.

She winced at her text as it went through.

Mikasa: ?

Mikasa: Come on. I’ll eat with you.

Annie: Okay.

Annie: Thanks.

Mikasa: :)

Annie put her phone away and smiled to herself.

“What is it?” Rosie asked.

“Oh. Just a minute ago I… might have been wrong.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” Annie laughed. “Let’s get home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Annie stood awkwardly by as Mikasa stripped off her shirt”
> 
> Haha more like awkwardly bi, amirite? hahahahahha
> 
> Your support is marvelous. Keep that sweet, sweet energy flowing, you beautiful reading beasts <3


	5. The Fermi Paradox (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie's life gets less lonely, but she's not sure how to handle it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry you had to wait. I found that I had a lot of research to do, and a lot of revising, and the chapter ended up so long that I had to split it up (this one's pretty short, but part two will be much longer).

That night, Annie filled her head with cyphers. Mikasa had texted her a couple more times, mostly about the topic proposal due Friday, so Annie decided to get a head start on research.  She tried not to think of lunch tomorrow, of something that seemed too good to be true. So encryption became her failsafe against excitement, worry, hope. The idea of Mikasa, or anyone, sitting with Annie at lunch tomorrow made her feel strange. These past several days she’d watched as the impossibilities became improbabilities, became likelihoods, became near certainties but still, she thought, stayed too good to be true.  After Mikasa was the only one to show up to the anime club—and after how Annie had treated her—Annie wasn’t sure what she’d done to deserve something, anything, good.

Still, she didn’t want to think about it. If Mikasa changed her mind, if the whole school turned on Annie, remembered what they thought they knew about her freshman year…Annie wasn’t sure she could take that. Not again.

So Annie read. She learned about the first cyphers used by Julius Caesar and his armies. About Vigenere’s cypher, which remained unbroken for over three centuries. And she learned about the codes that were never cracked: many of the Zodiac Killer’s haunting messages; a 19th century composer’s enigmatic musical cypher; the skeletal remains of a pigeon found in a French chimney, carrying a message written in an ultimately undelivered German code, dated June 6, 1944, D-Day.

She took the Caesar and Vigenere cyphers and gave them a try. All they required was to assign a number to each letter of the alphabet, to do some shifting and simple addition. If this was as hard as it got, if Mikasa would handle the math if it did get harder, then Annie would be totally fine. Still, she absorbed as much information as she could. Websites on the basic history of cryptography carried her to Alan Turing’s work, to advanced AI, to the Mars rover, and the desperate search for extraterrestrial life. When her eyes strained to read the digital print of a conspiracy theorist’s alleged discovery regarding single-celled alien organisms, she realized it was past 3 AM. She’d traded her anime addiction for diving deep into the madness of one man’s quest to thwart a full-blown CIA coverup of Neptune’s alleged primitive lifeforms. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this, but it had all done its job to distract her from thoughts of tomorrow. Today. Annie fell into bed, falling asleep in about two minutes.

 

Thursday morning, Annie got up early despite her tiredness. She walked to school and got to Mr. Smith’s classroom just as he was unlocking the door.

“Hey, Mr. Smith.”

He turned to her, surprised. “Good morning. Did Mikasa get you up to speed?” They stepped into the classroom.

“Yeah,” she said, going to her desk and leaning on it before setting her cane down.  “I looked at the stuff you gave me, and we’re doing our presentation on encryption.”

“Encryption…What era?”

“Well,” she said, thinking as she unloaded her backpack. “There’s a lot, but I don’t know what Mikasa wants to focus on. We’ve been talking.”

“Talking,” he said as he sat behind his desk. “Talking’s good.”

She looked up at him. He was beaming.

“I told you,” she said. “We’re not friends yet.”

“’Yet’ being the operative word.”

“But we hated each other.” Even as she said it, she felt uncertain.

“’Hated’ being a verb in the past tense.”

“Okay, well, you are ‘being’ annoying. Present tense,” Annie said.

“In the present _progressive_.”

“So you admit it.”

“I know what I am.”

“Whatever,” Annie muttered. She got out her math spiral and started practicing more cyphers. More students came in. Historia quietly made her way to the back of the room. Connie and Sasha came in with a bag of Tostitos chips and a literal jar of salsa, both of which were already open. When they offered some to a perplexed Mr. Smith, he declined and said he was glad they brought enough for the whole class, but to finish eating before the bell rang. A statement that Sasha took as a challenge.

Then Hitch breezed in with Hannah, Mina, and Franz.

“Are you gonna win for me, Franz?” Hitch said.

Franz laughed awkwardly. “I’ll win for Trost, I guess. But Reiner’s the one who’ll really win it for us.”

“You won’t get one touchdown for me?” Hitch asked in mock sadness.

As they all walked past her seat, Annie noticed Hannah scowling. It seemed the love triangle was still in full effect.

“You coming to the game, Annie?” Hitch said.

Annie turned, surprised. “No…Why?” She’d never been to a football game in her life.

“Mikasa will be there. Unless you want her to ditch the first game of the year for you.”

Annie shrugged. “Je verrai.”

“Pfff. Okay.”

Annie went back to her cyphers. Mikasa was the only one not here yet, and it was almost 8:00. She tried to ease the worry forming itself into a dull ache behind her eyes. If Mikasa wasn’t here today, they wouldn’t go to lunch together, and Annie would be right where she started: eating alone or hiding in the nurse’s office.

The bell rang. Annie let out a breath, and Mr. Smith began lecturing.

But about four minutes in, not that Annie was keeping track, Mikasa opened the door. Annie perked up. The other girl was carrying a stack of papers an inch thick. She hurried in and sat next to Annie and dropped the papers on Annie’s desk.

As Mikasa unloaded her backpack, Annie looked through the pile. Printed notes on the history of cryptography, examples of cyphers, some theoretical stuff. She knew most of it from her studying last night. Annie could feel Mikasa watching her, until the other tore a page from her spiral and started writing something. Annie smiled, knowing what was coming next. She waited as Mikasa scribbled and tried to listen to Mr. Smith talk.

The note that landed on her desk was tiny, folded as usual. Annie opened it: one, two, three, four, five folds. She wondered why Mikasa bothered to fold them at all, but it was endearing.

The note said Mikasa was late because she was printing all that information for Annie.

“I already learned all this, but thanks,” Annie wrote back.

Annie dropped the note on Mikasa’s desk when Mr. Smith, still talking, turned to get something from his desk. She heard Mikasa snort.

Actually, everyone heard it. Mr. Smith stopped mid-sentence and looked at her.

“Did I do something?” he asked, still oblivious.

Annie hid a grin behind her fist. Mikasa’s face was bright red.

“No?” Mikasa said.

“Okay…Well, anyway let me find that rubric…” He turned back to his desk. Mikasa started writing furiously on the note, beneath where Annie had written.

“You’re SUCH A JERK,” the reply started. “You made me snort!”

Annie bit her lip. She started writing a snarky reply in her spiral. She was about to tear the note out when she thought of something. Annie looked at the cyphers she’d been practicing before class. She started a new note: Oz’y tuz se lgarz eua ngbk yain g yzavoj rgamn.

Passing it over, she watched Mikasa from the corner of her eye. Mikasa immediately took to the Caesar cypher. It wouldn’t take her long. All she had to do was figure out one word, then she could shift the rest of the letters and read the whole thing.

A couple minutes later, the note came back. Scrawled under the letters Annie wrote was Mikasa’s work in decoding it. What Annie had encrypted was: It’s not my fault you have such a stupid laugh.

Followed by Mikasa’s reply: uqge haz LAIQ EUA GTTOK!!

Annie’s shoulders shook when she got halfway through decoding the third word. She didn’t need to go on to figured out it said, “Okay but FUCK YOU ANNIE!!”

The rest of class was about the same, holding in laughter until Annie was sure that Mr. Smith was on to them. Class ended with another reminder that the proposals were due tomorrow. Annie and Mikasa walked out together.

“Goddammit,” Mikasa said. “Don’t do that to me.”

“Make you laugh?”

“ _Snort._ ”

“But it’s cute,” Annie said without thinking. She saw Mikasa’s face change, eyebrows going up in surprise. “I mean…You don’t have to stop, snorting, I guess.”

Mikasa smiled. “Okay. See you at lunch, Annie.”

“…Yeah.” They parted ways. Annie’s heart worked overtime all through her next class.

 

When Annie got to the art room, she went straight to Jean and Marco.

“Hey, guys.” The two were already setting up their easels.

“Hey!” Jean said. “What’s up?”

“Hi, Annie,” Marco said. “Were you—”

“You weren’t at art club yesterday,” Jean interrupted.

Annie looked at Jean, then Marco. He seemed slightly put off that Jean had interrupted him, but he didn’t make an issue of it. He was too nice.

“No,” Annie said. “How was it?”

“Just introductions and stuff. We’re gonna make flyers. We don’t have a lot of people…So you should definitely come next week and like, after?”

“After?”

“The weeks after.”

Annie blinked. Jean rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Maybe,” she said. “It sounds fun.”

“It’s okay,” Marco jumped in. “If you don’t wanna come.”

Jean made a face at Marco. Then, turning to her but not quite meeting Annie’s eye, Jean said, “I…we need more people.”

Annie nodded, not sure what was happening. “Sure. I’ll think about it.”

“Great,” Jean said with a huge grin.

Marco let out a sigh.

 

When the bell rang, Annie went to the cafeteria, to her usual empty table, only unusual in that Mikasa was already there. She almost seemed out of place, sitting without all her friends, sitting at the loser table. But she smiled when she saw Annie, and Annie smiled back.

“Hey,” Annie said, slipping into her seat. “Guess who’s being weird?”

“Hm. You?”

“I’m always normal,” Annie deadpanned. “Guess again.”

“Uuum,” Mikasa said, looking to the ceiling. “Vice Principal Pixis.”

“Always. But not who I’m thinking of. You know Jean Kirschtein?”

“Yeah. Artist guy with the weird two-tone hair.”

“Right. Well, he wants me to join the art club. And he’s all nervous about it.”

Mikasa snorted. Again.

“What?!”

“He’s totally into you!” Mikasa practically yelled.

Annie hid her face. “Not so loud! God, I dunno. He might like me.”

“Might? Annie, come on. Do you not like him? He’s kind of handsome, isn’t he?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Annie said. “If he likes me, he’s making a huge mistake.”

“Best mistake of his life. You gonna join the club?” Mikasa said, raising her eyebrows.

“I don’t know…God, he said my art was really good!”

They both burst into laughter.

“Okay, okay,” Mikasa said. “You _have_ to join art club. This is so great! My Annie is in love!”

“In love? I never said I liked the guy.”

“You do! Am I invited to the wedding?”

“No.” Annie tried to glare at Mikasa, but her mouth split into a grin. “But I do need someone to burst in at the proper time and yell about how we’re not right for each other.”

Mikasa held back a laugh that obviously wanted to be a snort, and they fell into helpless giggles again.

Annie got out her lunch. Nothing but a thermos full of instant ramen she’d made this morning. Mikasa’s lunch was a sandwich, no crust, a huge salad, and a bottle of strawberry milk.

“So, um, the topic proposal’s due tomorrow,” Annie said after she’d finished a bite of ramen. “Mr. Smith was asking what we’re gonna narrow our subject down to.”

“I’ve got it all figured out,” Mikasa said. She pushed the salad around in her Tupperware. “But you might think my idea is weird.”

“Hit me.”

“Well, have you heard of the Fermi Paradox?”

“I think so? Tell me.”

“It asks why we haven’t found extraterrestrial life yet.”

“Oh! I read some stuff about that last night.” She thought back to the “life on Neptune” nutjob. “Wait. Are you a crazy conspiracy theorist?”

Mikasa shook her head vehemently. “No way. I just think that—”

“Aliens built the pyramids.”

“No! That’s stupid. I just think that the aliens aren’t communicating with us. It’s really sad, isn’t it? That it seems like we’re all alone in the universe?” She went on before Annie could answer. “But I think,” Mikasa said, “that the aliens are waiting for us to become more advanced. Maybe we’re like ants to them. And maybe we’ll never be as smart as them. Or else the aliens are waiting for us to stop colonizing each other and going to war over territory every twenty seconds. Then the aliens will let us in on, I don’t know, the secrets of the galaxy?”

Annie stared at her for a long while. “Wow. Okay then.”

“Okay then?” Mikasa asked. “This is good stuff!”

Annie laughed and shook her head. “Whatever you say, Mikasa. You sound a bit crazy to me.”

Mikasa frowned, then took another sip of her strawberry milk.

“And I don’t get how the Fermi Paradox relates to encryption,” Annie said.

“That’s where Edward Snowden comes in.”

“Ah, I see. So you hate America.”

“Annie…Shut up. Snowden has a theory that alien signals, radiowaves, whatever they’re using, are encrypted so that they sound like background noise to us.”

Annie ignored that Mikasa told her to shut up and focused on her argument. “But this is a history project. And Snowden’s not history. He’s current. When did he say that, last week?”

Mikasa bit her lip. “You may be right…Well, I’ll think about it and text you tonight. And I’ll type everything up for the proposal.”

“Thanks. But shouldn’t we figure this out now?”

“We have more important things to discuss,” Mikasa said.

“Like what?”

“Like what are you gonna wear to school tomorrow?”

“What kind of question is that?” Annie asked.

“You gotta show off for Jean,” she said, shimmying her shoulders.

“I will kill you. I’m gonna wear my unicorn hoodie again. And the jeans with the most holes in them. I’m not gonna brush my hair or my teeth. Not for Jean Kirschtein.”

Mikasa put her hand to her mouth, holding the laughter in.

“Shut up!” Annie said, smiling in spite of herself.

Mikasa snorted, looking absolutely shocked that it had happened again. Annie cracked up, resting her head on the table.

“Stoooop,” Mikasa whined through her laughter.

Annie sat back up after a moment and right away felt like she was being watched. It was a bad feeling, and she knew exactly where it was coming from. She turned her head, toward Mikasa’s usual lunch table. Bertholdt and Reiner were sitting there, looking straight at her. Annie tensed, glowering into her lap.

“What’s wrong?” Mikasa said.

Annie just stared down and gave a little shake of her head.

Mikasa looked over at the others. “Are they doing something?”

“No. It’s just weird. They all hate me. Especially Reiner…And Bertholdt.”

“They don’t hate you, Annie.”

“What would you call it, then?”

“I don’t know about Reiner, but I think Bert’s afraid of you.”

“Afraid?”

Mikasa shifted in her seat. “Yeah. You’re kind of intimidating, you know? And Bert’s pretty much afraid of his own shadow so…”

 “He’s still the same then…”

“I know you were friends or…something, but I went to a different junior high,” Mikasa said. “I don’t know what happened with you two.”

“I bet you know enough. You’ve heard a version of the truth. And versions of the truth became actual truth, after enough time. Mikasa…You’re taking a risk sitting with someone like me.”

A crease appeared between Mikasa’s eyebrows. “Annie, it isn’t a risk if I get to become friends with you.”

Annie felt her face heat up. “Oh…Okay.”

Her heart pounded. How long had it been? Since anyone her age had thought of her like this?

“Believe me, Annie.”

Annie looked up at Mikasa. “Okay.”

“I have to leave early today. See you in gym?” Mikasa asked, packing the remains of her lunch away.

“Yeah. I’ll bring my cane.”

Mikasa laughed and stood up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. She waved at some friends of hers who were waiting for her by the cafeteria doors. _That’s right,_ Annie thought as she watched Armin Arlert and Eren Jaeger greet her. _They’ve been friends since junior high._ When Mikasa reached them, Armin, the certifiable genius of Trost High, put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. And Eren, the hot-tempered boy who failed to make the cut for the varsity football team four years straight, did the same on her other side. Annie had heard rumors. Of how far Mikasa had gone, since sixth grade, to make sure those two were safe. Watching them now, Annie felt suddenly… jealous? No. That wasn’t right. Why should she feel anything like that about them? About Mikasa?

 

Annie went to her English class, then her physics class, dreading the arrival of French. But it had to happen eventually, and she walked into the French classroom to see that Hitch, Mina, and Hannah were already seated, chatting in low tones. They all stopped and looked at her when she entered.

Annie put her backpack under her desk, purposefully avoiding the gaze of the other girls. _Please, don’t stop on my account._

“Annie,” Hitch said.

“…What?”

“Why are you hanging out with Mikasa so much?”

Annie leaned her cane against the desk, got out her French textbook, her spiral, anything that would allow her to avoid Hitch’s eye. “You can ask her yourself,” Annie said.

“I have.”

“Oh. What did she say?” Annie asked. She tried to keep the interest out of her voice.

“She said she has a lot in common with you.”

“Whatever that means,” Hannah said with distaste.

“I see,” Annie said. But she didn’t know what it meant either. She had no idea.

 

Annie waited on the bench in front of Mikasa’s gym locker as the other girl changed, facing away from her as Mikasa talked.

“Only two days left of lacrosse,” she was saying. “And I still can’t get used to the cradling motions. I don’t think Shadis even _had_ lacrosse in the curriculum last year. Do you remember? Annie?”

“Huh?” She turned to see Mikasa holding her shirt in her hand. Today’s bra was an intense lime green. Annie snapped her whole body away. “Oh. No, I don’t remember.”

“Something wrong?”

“I just don’t get you.”

“Get me?”

Annie clenched her fists in her lap. “Why you wanted to sit with me today.”

Mikasa, gym shirt on, came to sit next to Annie. “There’s nothing _to_ get, Annie. Sometimes people just wanna hang out with you.”

“That doesn’t happen. Not to me.”

“Well it’s happening right now.” Mikasa slung and arm over Annie’s shoulder and held her, just for a moment.

Annie’s eyes pricked with tears, but her voice remained steady. “Dammit, Mikasa. Don’t go soft on me now.”

Mikasa laughed. “I wouldn’t dare. I have to pick my teammates.” Mikasa stood and walked over to the other girls, sparing one last glance at Annie, smiling at her in a way that nearly made Annie smile back.

Hitch and Mikasa separated the girls, selecting the best of the best and working their way down, down to the girls who tried harder than Annie. Who tried at all. Annie stared at her cane, the ticket out of her embarrassment. She knew it wouldn’t last forever.

The teams selected, they all headed out the door.

“See you after I win,” Mikasa sang out, jogging to the field with her lacrosse stick slung over her shoulder.

Annie shook her head. “I’ll be watching.”

The weather was cool, but there was a coldsnap brewing. Anyone could feel it coming. The wind was a little sharper than usual, carrying an electric air. The poplar trees at the edge of the school property were beginning to shed their first leaves. Just a few. Just for now.

Annie sat next to Shadis, who stood like an angry, disapproving sentinel. She was confused, a vague twisting happening in her stomach as she watched Mikasa play.

She led her team efficiently. They listened to her. Respected her. It was less that she was charismatic and more that she was just incredibly competent at whatever she put her mind to. And now, she was putting her mind to lacrosse, focusing so hard that she could ignore the rough and tumble bruises that came from the hands-on game.

Annie touched her own bruises now. The pain in her nose no longer made her wince. She knew that the bruises under her eyes were a fading yellow-green. She remembered gym classes before Trost High, before junior high. She’d been competent too, at school, at sports, though she always held back, just a little bit. Standing out would have meant more work, more expectations. Still, she had been “gifted” in elementary school, enough that her father had wondered what happened by 6th grade, at least for a while. Before he stopped wondering about Annie, or anyone else, all together.

She stared into her lap now, twisting the cane in her hands. The sleek black wood was chipped in places, if she looked close enough. She could almost remember when her mother had first used it, thought she remembered the first time she came through the door, leaning on it, sighing, dropping to the couch where she’d closed her eyes, closed her eyes always without sleeping, a grimace fitted to her face. When was that? First grade? Second? All Annie knew was that she was little, too young to understand. Naïve enough to think that distracting her mother would help. That asking her mother to play, or talking to her, telling her about her day, would help ease her mind and with it, her body. That was way before her mother became pregnant with Rosie, by which time things got better, and, after she was born, much, much worse.

_Why are you thinking about this now?_

She watched as Hitch scored a goal. Annie didn’t have to be close to know that Hitch was smirking, that the way she turned her face to Mikasa was meant to mock her, that Mikasa’s bearing was slumped, only slightly, only for a moment, until, Annie knew, Mikasa filled herself with resolve to do better. Always better. Always best.

Suddenly, Annie thought of kickball. The memory came unbidden: her standing at home plate in fifth grade, toeing the edge of a hot, awful summer. Sasha, all elbows and gapped teeth, bounced the ball down the pitch. Normally Annie would have given a strong kick, knocking the ball over the far fence if she really wanted to. That way she could stroll around the bases and save herself from having to run.

But today. Today her mother hadn’t packed her a lunch. Today her father hadn’t thought to give her five dollars to buy one herself. Today, her father had left for work early and her new baby sister had cried and cried until Annie went to her crib and held her, begging her to stop. Because today her mother was asleep or trying to be asleep or forcing herself asleep with whatever pills the doctor had given her too much of, and Annie knew she couldn’t wake her up. When Rosie stopped crying, Annie prayed she wouldn’t hear her mother’s weeping taking her place.

She watched the ball bounce toward her. The bases were loaded, and her team was losing by just a little bit. It was almost time for the school day to end, almost time to go back home. It was all up to Annie to win everything, and she could. Easily. But she didn’t want to. She didn’t care, and she didn’t want to even walk the bases. She wanted out. So she kicked the ball straight into Sasha’s hands. The other kids looked surprised, her teammates miffed. Annie felt bored.

That was the start of it. The end of something else.

Annie came back to herself. The lacrosse game was over, the girls heading back inside. Only Mikasa was walking toward her, a grin on her face, mud on her legs. Annie planted her cane on the ground and pushed up with her left foot, getting up and finding her balance. She swiped at her eyes.

“You won,” Annie said.

“Yeah.” Mikasa tilted her head. “You look spaced out.”

Annie started walking. “You did good today.”

“I try.”

“I know. Don’t you ever get tired?”

“Stopping isn’t an option for me.”

“Mikasa, it isn’t like you’re a hammerhead shark. You’re just a person. Nothing will happen if you sleep all day. The world won’t end if you stop moving.”

“What’ll happen, then?”

Annie looked at her. “You’ll go into a coma.”

“Oh. Okay. When will I come out of it?”

She sighed. “I don’t know, Mikasa. Maybe you won’t.”

“How does it feel?” Mikasa asked gently.

Annie’s eyes widened, her throat tightening enough that she had to wait a minute before she could answer. “Numb. And boring.”

“Does coming out of it hurt?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“I think you do, though…Hey, when your ankle is all better, you’re my first pick whenever I’m captain.”

Annie looked at her, perplexed. “You’re always captain.”

“Then you’ll always be on my team,” Mikasa said lightly. She opened the door leading to the locker room and held it open for her. They went inside. Annie felt something then, besides numbness or boredom, besides grief, regret, or rage. She didn’t know what it was, but it was a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French note. Je verrai = I shall see.
> 
> Thanks for reading. You can share the fic on tumblr if you wanna (but only if you wanna). Word of mouth really helps writers out <3
> 
> We're almost at 100 kudos. Bless you all.
> 
> Update: Chapter 6 will be late (up on Monday 9-24-18). I have some Life to deal with ;A; I'll keep you all fresh and up-to-date on tumblr.


	6. The Fermi Paradox (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intercepted secret messages, shy portraits, Tonya Harding, broken French, a bad game of lacrosse.

Thursday night had been constant texts between her and Mikasa, about the topic proposal, about Fermi, about math class and gym class and cheer, about what each of them had eaten for dinner, then about everything else, everything, and nothing, and Annie had to get used to it again: used to someone talking with her until she knew she had to go to bed but didn’t. Finally, after goodnight texts and promises of tomorrow, Annie got on her laptop and researched Fermi and the “Great Filter” hypothesis, the one that kept man from encountering other intelligent life, if there even was any, if any had evolved or if man had surpassed the barrier of progress, man as an anomaly who left any extraterrestrial species in the dust. It made Annie’s chest ache, suddenly, the loneliness of man momentarily suffocating her thoughts. But she didn’t have that problem. Not really. There were 7 billion other people on the planet, and one of them was Mikasa Ackerman. She slept soon after that and woke up early, not refreshed, but not exhausted either.

She went into the bathroom, brushed out her hair, and got undressed for her shower. She sang as she stood under the steaming water. Not that she was much of a singer. In fact, while Annie was eating a bowl of Fruit Loops at the kitchen table, Rosie came in with her grievances.

“But what are you so happy about?” Rosie asked as she took a fistful of Fruit Loops straight from the box.

“Ro, we have bowls.”

“You never sing. You shouldn’t. But today you did.”

“Sit. I’ll get you a bowl and spoon.” She went to the cabinet, listening to Rosie digging around in the cereal box.

“Is it Mikasa?” Rosie said through a mouthful.

“Why would it be Mikasa?” Annie said, setting out Rosie’s bowl and spoon. “Want milk?”

Rosie shook her head. “You’re happier around her,” she said and poured a heaping bowl of Fruit Loops.

Annie stuck her fist in the bowl and took a handful. “Too many. I’ll take some.”

“Hey!”

Annie checked her watch and stuffed the cereal into her mouth, taking her own bowl and putting it in the sink. “I’d better go. See you later, crocodile.”

“After a whi—Annie. Don’t do that.”

“And then _you_ say…”

“No.”

“Pff. Fine. See you after school, little ghoul.”

“…Better.”

 

She hummed to herself as she walked through the halls, an expert cane wielder by now. She wouldn’t worry today. A math class she didn’t understand wasn’t so bad with Mikasa there. The middle of the day would bring them together for lunch, and the end would bring an easy gym class, one where she could relax and watch Mikasa in action.

When she arrived at Mr. Smith’s classroom, half an hour early, he noticed her mood.

“What’s got you so happy?” he asked.

She took a deep breath. “Mikasa and I—”

But she was cut off. By the janitor.

“Erwin,” he said from the doorway. “Are we going?”

“Of course,” Mr. Smith said. “Tonight at seven?”

The janitor’s eyes drifted over to Annie, sitting at her desk. He looked back at Mr. Smith. “Yeah.” He lingered for a second. “Okay,” he said and turned on his heel.

“What was that about?” Annie asked.

Mr. Smith looked at the empty doorway. “Oh. We’re just going to the football game tonight.”

“I didn’t know you liked football.”

“I don’t. Call it school spirit.”

“Hm. I don’t know what that is.”

“But your favorite cheerleader will be there!”

“It would be great if we could, like, not do this.” She opened her backpack.

“We’re not doing anything,” he said. “We’re just stating facts, or I am.”

“Right.”

“And you’re deflecting my facts. Rather badly. But I’m happy you’ve found someone, Annie.”

She glared down into her bag, as if she could find a suitable retort inside. “Sure. Whatever.”

Mikasa chose that moment to walk in, greeting Annie happily. She didn’t notice Mr. Smith giving Annie a meaningful, annoying look from his desk.

“Hey,” Mikasa said with a grin. “Finished the proposal.”

“Nice,” Annie said. She knew if she chose to look over at Mr. Smith that she’d see his very-pleased-with-himself face.

Mikasa sat down. “I wonder what the others are presenting on.”

“You’ll find out,” Mr. Smith half-sang.

“What does that mean,” Annie said.

“Hmmm…”

Before the bell, the other students walked in, Hitch and her friends discussing the upcoming football game. Hannah and Franz were walking side by side, kind of close in the way only shy, future high school sweethearts walked close. Annie saw it in their smiles, and saw it in Hitch’s subdued bearing, and even in Mina’s caught-in-the-middle skittishness. Annie smirked. Hitch wasn’t getting anything she wanted.

“Yikes,” Mikasa mouthed as the others sat behind them. Annie had to agree.

Class began with Mr. Smith’s announcement that they’d be sharing their topic proposals with each other. Annie looked around. No one had had any warning, the panic showing on all their faces. Historia appeared peaked, and Hitch and her friends grumbled to themselves.

“Let’s start at the front,” Mr. Smith said. Mikasa stood up, setting the annoying precedent that Annie would have to stand as well. Warily, Annie got to her feet. Knowing Mr. Smith, this wasn’t going to be easy.

Mikasa began to speak. “We’ve been researching the Fermi—”

The door burst open and arced to slam into the wall with a bang as Connie rushed in, Sasha in tow.

“Sorry!” Sasha blurted, then hissed, “Connie, you’re an idiot.” They carried their spirals and loose-leaf pages and went to their seats in a conspicuous hurry.

“Did you not have time to bring salsa today?” Mr. Smith asked, making the others laugh.

“Um,” Connie said as he sat down, “my printer wasn’t working this morning.”

“But we have this,” Sasha said, holding out a crumpled paper with a dozen lines of scrawled handwriting on it.

“Well,” Mr. Smith said affably. “Stand up. Why don’t you present first?”

“Pr-present?” the unfortunate duo said, almost in sync.

“Sure,” Sasha said. “We’re…ready for that.”

Annie looked to an amused Mikasa. They sat down, and Annie wrote her a quick note that said, “Bullshit?”

Mikasa got it and smiled a bit, taking only a second to pass the note back. It was Annie’s original message, with part of the question mark crossed out: “Bullshit.”

Connie and Sasha stood and began rambling, in turns, about their research project. Whatever they were saying, it didn’t sound like they knew what they were talking about. Mr. Smith played along.

“Ah, I see. And how will you demonstrate the use of matrices in _The Matrix_? Will you interview Keanu Reeves?”

“I mean, he’s a very busy…” Connie began, starting to clue in to the fact that Mr. Smith was on to them.

“We’ll contact the Wachowski sisters!” Sasha said, and at one tiny giggle—from Historia of all people—the whole room dissolved into laughter.

Mr. Smith mostly held his composure as he told them they’d talk after class. “I believe that Annie and Mikasa were ready,” he said, and Connie and Sasha hung their heads.

The two stood again. “We’ll be presenting on the Fermi Paradox as it relates to encryption,” Mikasa said.

Annie crossed her arms and stared at the ground as Mikasa went on to explain, hoping her body language would tell Mikasa to keep on talking for the both of them. But when she was done, Mr. Smith didn’t address Mikasa.

“Annie,” he said, “what do you believe are the historical aspects of the Fermi Paradox?”

Mikasa stiffened, then nodded at Annie to take over. “Well. Enrico Fermi came up with the theory in the 1950’s,” Annie said, her face heating up as she gazed at her shoes. “So it has an almost 70-year history, and it has been applied by SETI and somewhat by NASA.”

“Sounds more like a science project to me, except for the small part about encryption mentioned earlier,” Mr. Smith mused, leaning back in his chair. Annie gave Mikasa an I-told-you-so look, but she could tell Mr. Smith was toying with them like he’d been toying with Connie and Sasha.

“But encryption was hypothesized as a reason for no alien contact!” Mikasa put in.

“Sure,” he said. “But was this proposed in the 50’s? With the original hypotheses?”

Mikasa and Annie glanced at each other, and their worry passed into a strange resolve. Simultaneously, they turned to Mr. Smith, staring him down and letting him know they knew what he knew.

“It was Snowden,” Annie said. “Edward Snowden said it in 2015.”

Mr. Smith held her gaze. “Well then. That’s not the best basis for a project in a history of math class, is it?”

“We still want to do something on the Fermi Paradox though,” Mikasa said quickly.

Annie tilted her head. Mikasa hadn’t asked, but Annie could see she was really into this.

“Alright. Find something over the weekend,” Mr. Smith said.

Annie sighed and sat down, glad it was over.

When Hitch and Mina began speaking about their project (it seemed Hannah was partnered with Franz), Annie decided to encrypt a note for Mikasa. She could feel Mikasa keeping an eye on her as she worked out the simple math of a Vigenere cypher. It took a long time, past Hitch and Mina’s proposal, and into Franz and Hannah’s, but finally Annie finished.

The note she passed read, “key: CHEERINGCHEER? code: CAKEDMGUPPKLK?”

She gave it to Mikasa, noting the twitch of her lips when she realized what it was, or maybe she was amused by the key or the word “CAKED” that had accidentally found its way into the encryption. She solved it in no time, just as Historia began to speak from the back of the room, very quietly, about the project she’d present by herself.

Annie took back the note, which Mikasa had scribbled on, leaving stray calculations and her ultimate unraveling of Annie’s code which altogether had said, “Cheering at the game tonight?” And then Mikasa’s simple reply that read, in those tiny, heart-stopping letters, “Yes! You’re coming? :)”

Annie froze. It had never really occurred to her to go. But now she had a chance, a reason, even, to set foot at a non-mandatory school event. Trying to disguise her nerves, Annie created another cypher on the same note, just a Caesar with a shift of 5, one that said, “Yt f kttygfqq lfrj? N’i wfymjw inj,” or, “To a football game? I’d rather die.”

She regretted it the instant she handed it over. Her snarky tone wouldn’t come through, and she would come off meaner than she intended. Like usual. But what she really regretted was Mr. Smith locking his eyes on her, just as he was done grilling Historia on her project. He stood, came over, and asked what Mikasa was reading.

Mikasa didn’t seem put off, looking as relaxed as Annie was mortified. She gave up the note without a word. Mr. Smith stared down at it for a second. “Ah,” he said. “Give me a second.”

He stood right there, leaning on Mikasa’s desk and solving the cypher in about thirty seconds. He looked over the rest of their messages and turned to Annie. “You should write a nicer answer,” he told her.

“What? What did she write?” Mikasa said innocently.

“Um.” Annie reached out for the note, and Mr. Smith happily obliged. She sat there for a moment with it in her hands, until she realized the whole class had come to a standstill. So Annie quickly scribbled a new cypher, one that would decode to say that sure, she’d see her there.

Mr. Smith was still standing over them, and when Annie tried to pass back her note, he intercepted it and took a moment to read Annie’s revision.

“Better,” he said and handed the note to Mikasa. “I’m glad you’re applying your knowledge of cyphers, but please pay a little more attention during my class, ladies.”

Hitch and company snickered behind her, and Annie turned a deep shade of red. But Mikasa was fine. She was busy smiling down at the note.

 

“Well that was fucking mortifying,” Annie said as they walked out together.

Mikasa shrugged. “I don’t think Mr. Smith cares that much. It seems like he enjoys teasing people.”

“I never noticed,” Annie mumbled.

Mikasa hummed. “You seeing your boy today?”

“My…No. I don’t have a boy, Mikasa.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t want one!”

Mikasa seemed surprised, then laughed, pausing before she’d turn down the hall to her next class. “Interesting!” she said with a mischievous smile.

“It is not!” Annie called after her, and Mikasa left her there to wonder what exactly “interesting” meant.

 

Annie decided, after not even two weeks of art class, that Petra didn’t believe in a scheduled curriculum. After days of the most random gesture drawings, they were suddenly drawing each other. It felt like a huge jump, and like a change of pace that Annie was in no way ready for.

“So pick a partner you’d like to draw, and then we’ll give our drawings to each other. Quick, 20-minute gesture-style portraits, one person, then the other. Nothing special, but do your best!” Petra said with a decisive clap of her hands.

“Jean,” Marco began, but Jean was already turning to Annie.

“Um,” Annie said.

“Ready?” Jean asked.

“Oh,” Annie said. She looked over at Marco, who shrugged and went off to find someone else to draw. “Sure,” she said to Jean. “I’ll draw you first?”

“Okay.”

It was her secret strategy to have him model first. That way she could tell him not to move or talk, and she wouldn’t have to talk back. Talking was scary, especially considering what Mikasa had said yesterday at lunch about her and Jean. Annie maneuvered her easel slightly to the right, so she could see Jean sitting on his stool.

“Sit and face your body toward me, but turn your head to the left,” she told him.

“Oh, uh…” He turned his head to his left.

“Nah,” she said. “Your right, I mean.”

Good. Now he couldn’t look at her.

“Why like this?” he asked, staring at the door.

“Good jawline,” Annie said without thinking, until she saw a smile tug at his lips. “I mean. More interesting than the front of your face,” she corrected. _Overcorrected_ , she thought, based on the way his smile fell.

“You’re so mean,” he said, turning to stare, wide-eyed.

“Yes. Mean. Shut up and let me draw you. And don’t look at me.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

She began to sketch with a pigment liner pen, nervously at first, her hand loosening up as she went on. He really did have a strong jawline. Annie thought about what Mikasa had said. About him being “kind of handsome.” She guessed it was true, paying attention like she was now. A few minutes in, she was done with the rough outline. Figure drawing had never been something she’d been great at, at least not in this realistic style.

Art classes had always challenged her to go outside the manga and anime style. She’d gotten her first “how to draw manga” book in 7th grade. Holed up in her room, she’d sketched shoujo eyes for hours. The sparkle in those eyes took weeks to get right. She began with simple pencil, then went on to actual ink. Like a mangaka, but not really. She’d never reach a level where she could turn out so many pages so fast. Nor did she want to; the pressure of a mangaka’s life was one of overwhelming deadlines. Plus, the main problem was that she was white as hell, and her Japanese comprehension was shit. And she didn’t know if she wanted to be a graphic novelist in the US. Annie didn’t know anything about the market, didn’t care about Superman, Spiderman, the Hulk, or Thor. Marvel and DC? She hardly knew the difference. If she could make any comic, any manga, she’d make something where the heroes were shrouded in shades of grey. So many heroes and villains she saw were only painted in rights and wrongs. And it was always an unspoken certainty that the villains were absolutely in the wrong. What if Annie were to look at both sides?

Her drawing of Jean progressed nicely. The sharp spikes of his slightly shaggy hair connected with his nape, leading into the distinct jawline she knew she had to get right. There were no rules on how much of the body had to be drawn, so it was his head down to mid-torso. The page on her easel was large, about 2 feet tall or so, 1.5 feet wide. She layered broad strokes into his hair and checked the time. Somehow, she had only a few minutes left. She went to draw his eye, limiting herself to the movement of her wrist.

It wasn’t like Annie could erase. And she couldn’t stop her hand, which added a shine to his eye, an exaggeration to the lids. Her hand made his eyebrows sharp, sharper, and when she lowered it at last, she thought the whole portrait looked stupid. Realistic enough in the shape of his head, the hair, but suddenly so shounen around the eyes.

“Ah!” Petra said. “I lost track of time!” She’d been drawing Marco, who had become the odd man out without a partner after all the other students paired up. “Sorry. We’ve gone over by just a couple minutes. Let’s switch.”

Annie bit her lip. “I’m not giving you this,” she muttered.

“What? Annie, come on. Let me see,” Jean said.

She exhaled. “Fine.” Annie pulled the portrait from her easel and handed it to Jean without really looking at him.

“Oh,” she heard him say and wanted to sink into the ground forever. “This is awesome.”

She jerked up her head to meet his eyes. “Don’t say that!”

“What? That I like it?” He stared down at the drawing. “I’ll give it to my mom. She’ll probably put it on the fridge or something.”

Annie cracked a smile. “That’s so dorky. You have an embarrassing mom.”

“Yeah,” he said, looking up at her with a grin. “Will your m—”

“Draw me now,” she said suddenly. “How do you want me?”

“Oh, uh, sit like normal and maybe look down a bit? And put the cane in your lap?”

“Like this?” This was fine. She wouldn’t have to keep her eyes on him.

“Looks good,” he said and Annie tensed but tried not to show it.

He began to draw, and she got lost in her thoughts. What would Mikasa say about this when she told her? It was an intimate thing, to draw someone, to be drawn by someone. She thought about Jean drawing the curve of her stupid face. Would he draw the bruises, the swelling, all the other flaws that had torn through her in the past weeks?  At least she wasn’t in profile showing off her awful bird nose. She thought about his mom, putting her portrait of him on the fridge, and, as she looked down at her cane, she thought of her own mother. Her hands tensed on the cane, and she let out a sigh. She could sort of see Jean’s movements as he paused to look up at her. His hand swept over a page she couldn’t see. She wondered what he saw in her. And she wondered if she’d ever see anything in herself. The way Mikasa said Jean did. The way Mikasa herself did, if Annie could believe that.

Mikasa. The girl with the sheer black hair, the almost ivory skin, the blood-red scarf, muscles like hell, and a smile that, whenever it was true, cut Annie to the core. And her stupid laugh, made even more endearing when she was embarrassed by it. In a few minutes, Annie would see her again. But what would Mikasa see? An idea? A lie? When would Mikasa realize how nothing Annie was?

Annie kept flitting her eyes up at Jean. He drew with his tongue sticking out slightly, smirking every time he caught her looking, and told her to hold her pose, and yes, she’d decided then, he was cute, or, handsome, or something like that. How she felt about it was the larger matter of debate. What she’d do, what he’d do, was almost foreign territory.

Before Annie knew it, Petra called the time, the bell ringing a few seconds later. “Sorry!” she said. “Great work today, everyone! And have a wonderful weekend.”

Jean glanced around and seemed to add another detail before standing from his chair and rolling up the portrait of Annie.

“Don’t I get to see it?” she asked.

“Save it,” he said with a suspicious grin. “Look at it after school.”

He put the rolled paper in her hands, and she stared down at it. “Is it that bad?”

“Yup.” He was packing up his stuff, with Marco waiting for him. “You did move a lot.”

She glared at him and started cleaning up around her own easel. “I don’t like getting so much attention.”

“I can tell,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “You looked miserable most of the time.”

“Miserable?”

“After school,” he said, walking off with Marco. She stood there for a moment and put the paper tube in her backpack, sticking out of the side. It was time for lunch.

 

Mikasa was already waiting for her, lunch untouched.

“You could have started eating,” Annie said.

Mikasa shrugged. “We should eat together.”

Annie swallowed a lump in her throat and sat down. Her lunch was a Nutella sandwich, an apple, and bottled water. Mikasa’s was another salad, rice cakes, blackberries, and strawberry milk.

“Rice cakes?” Annie asked. “Seriously?”

“They’re filling! I have to stay in shape for October.”

“What’s in October?”

“Our first cheer competition,” Mikasa said with a frown.

“It’s not like something good will kill you,” Annie said, waving her sandwich. “And I doubt you’ve ever been out of shape.”

Mikasa bit into a rice cake. “Hm. I was a scrawny kid though.”

“Don’t believe you. You came out of the womb as ripped as the babies in those Renaissance paintings.”

“Oh, God. That’s a terrible image.”

“A shredded cherub.”

Mikasa inhaled sharply but held in her laughter. “That’s…so stupid.”

Annie took a bite of her sandwich. “Mm. How’s that filling rice cake tasting?”

Mikasa shook her head and frowned. “Not funny.” She had a way of draining the amusement out of her face, very suddenly, when she wanted to.

Annie tried to hold back her own smile. “Isn’t that strawberry milk pretty fatty though? And oooh, that looks like chicken on your salad.”

“Pff. But I need protein for my gun show.” Mikasa held up her arms and flexed. She was wearing a black, long-sleeved shirt, but Annie could still see some definition.

“I cannot believe you just gave me two tickets to the gun show,” Annie said, amazed and almost embarrassed.

“The gun show is always free,” Mikasa deadpanned. “But I’m worried. About October.”

“Your cheer thing?” Annie said. “You’ll be fine.”

“I just don’t feel good about being captain. Ever since I took over for Historia last year, it’s been different. Not as…”

“Not as fun?”

“Yeah. Hitch is super ornery, and she has a lot of girls in her corner.”

“Plus she’s a total Tonya Harding type,” Annie said. “Watch out.”

“Who’s Tonya…Oh…the figure skater who got the other figure skater attacked?”

Annie nodded solemnly. It had happened in the early 90’s, before either she or Mikasa were even born, but there had been a movie made about Harding recently.

Mikasa shook her head. “That’s _dark_ , Annie.”

“Exactly,” Annie said. “Don’t be the Nancy Kerrigan to Hitch’s Tonya Harding. You just gotta bust _her_ kneecaps first.”

“I will not…be busting any kneecaps,” Mikasa said with subdued amusement.

“Use my cane,” Annie said, setting it on the table.

“You’re terrible!” But Mikasa was nearly grinning as she said it. “I would never do that. And I don’t think Hitch would either. She’s co-captain, but it’s like she wants my spot. I know she wants my spot. And she's all mad I kept ditching for you, and maybe she should be but...She’s just so…She disagrees with my choreography and everything I do. She’s constantly…”

Annie slid the cane closer, with deadly intent in her eyes. “Tonya. Harding.”

That did it. Mikasa snorted and covered her face. “Dooon’t! Your sense of humor is terrible.”

“Oh, I know.”

“ _Cat Soup_ humor.”

Annie’s eyes widened. “No. I hope not.”

“But really dark.”

“Hm. I guess so. But you know what’s crazy? Hannah and Franz today.”

Mikasa gasped, remembering. “They’re presenting together! Hitch is gonna be so extra-strength pissed.”

“Hope she doesn’t take it out on you.”

“Or you, Annie.”

“I can take it. I just have French with her, and ever since Tonya Harding ordered a hit on my ankle, I’ve been benched.”

“Fucking…” Mikasa hid her face again. Annie was drawing more and more emotion out of Mikasa by the day. It was pretty gratifying. “I’ll get you for that.”

“Well, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Aah!” Mikasa threw her hands up. “Please don’t use your sense of humor on Jean. You’ll scare him off.”

“Oh. We drew each other today.”

“You and Jean?!”

“Shut your…Yeah, we did portraits…”

“That’s so romantic!”

“The teacher made us do it!”

“Did he paint you like one of his French girls?”

“Did he…NO!”

“Looks like I got you after all,” Mikasa said cheekily.

“Don’t act so pleased with yourself.”

“You’re like Kate Winslet. But would you mind if I stole him from you?”

“Seriously? You and Jean? Eat your damn rice cakes.”

They ate in a comfortable silence for a while, ‘til Annie spoke up. “So. I’ll come to the game tonight.”

Mikasa smiled. “Yeah. I’ll be set up on the field, but we can hang after.”

 _Hang,_ Annie thought. That was what high schoolers did. Hung out after school, at clubs, after games. She knew she’d set out to do this when she started the anime club, but it still seemed unreal to her, that she was practically a functioning member of the student body now. That she was someone to hang out with.

“Okay,” Annie said. “We can do that.”

 

Annie showed up to French class to find Mina and Hannah deep in conversation. Hitch hadn’t arrived yet.

“We’re going somewhere after the game,” Hannah said cockily.

“Just you and Franz? Where?” Mina asked.

“I dunno. Dairy Queen or something? But it’s just us, so don’t tell…”

 _How romantic,_ Annie thought. She maybe would have said it aloud, but Hitch had just walked in, and Mina and Hannah looked away, Hannah’s stupid smile not entirely gone from her face.

Hitch dropped her stuff next to her desk. Annie scribbled in her notebook: drawing things like smiles, laughter, legs, and space, anything that came into her head. She stopped when she noticed Hitch staring at her, openly.

“What?” Annie said.

Hitch sighed. “You and Mikasa are getting pretty close.”

Annie bit her lip. “Sure. You jealous?”

“Of what.”

“Of not being close to some—” She stopped herself. Annie hadn’t meant to say anything alluding to Franz or Hannah. But it definitely came off like that.

“Don’t get used to it,” Hitch mumbled.

Annie side-eyed her but didn’t pursue the conversation. Mlle. Nanaba got their attention once the bell rang, and Annie’s jaw nearly dropped at what she said next.

“Bonjour. Aujourd'hui nous commoncerons avec les dialogue improvisé."

“Merde…” Annie said to herself.

"Je vais vous donner un sujet de conversation,” the teacher continued. “S'il vous plaît discuter avec votre partenaire pendant une minute."

“What did she say?” Hitch whispered to her. “More dialogues?”

“Um. Kind of. We just don’t, uh, get to practice beforehand.”

“Shit,” Hitch said under her breath.

“ _Yeah,_ ” Annie said. “I’ll keep it slow. Just pay attention.”

Hitch nodded.

“Allez, on commence,” Mlle. Nanaba said. “Why don’t we start with Hitch and Annie?” she said in English. “Girls, your topic is l'école. I’ll time you for a minute.”

Annie and Hitch shared a look of mild panic, and Annie could only hope that Hitch knew that “l’école” meant “school.”

“Okay,” Annie said, then launched into a very slow, painstaking French. “Hi, Hitch. How are you today?”

“Very good,” Hitch said with her usual bad pronunciation. “And you?”

“I’m good. Do you want to go to… _the school_ library after class today? They added more mystery books. I like the mystery books. They also have a lot of expensive textbooks. You don’t have to buy all your textbooks for school. I know you’re cheap.” Annie spoke clearly, with plenty of pauses, all while watching the seconds on the clock refusing to tick by. If she kept this up, Mlle Nanaba would wonder why Hitch wasn’t talking. Their whole operation could be blown to bits. She held her breath, waiting for her partner to screw up.

“Oh. Where is the library?” Hitch asked.

Annie waited for her to say more. When nothing else came out, she cursed inwardly. “It’s in the school,” Annie said, almost through gritted teeth.

The other students laughed, Mlle Nanaba watching Hitch curiously.

“Ah! The school!” Hitch said. “Um, our school’s library is small.”

“Yes. And the librarians are somewhat rude.” When she saw Hitch’s blank look, Annie said in her most simple French, “The librarians…are not…nice.”

“The librarians aren’t nice?” Hitch repeated.

“They’re not smart either,” Annie said and glanced at the clock. Several seconds left. “Have you ever been inside a library, Hitch?”

“That’s time,” Mlle Nanaba said, looking down at her watch. “Ah…très…bien...Hannah and Mina, your topic will be…”

Annie wrote Hitch a note as the others talked. “Are you a fucking moron? She’s gonna know.”

“You said weird stuff,” Hitch wrote back.

“You misgendered every other word,” Annie wrote. “You’re supposed to be good at this.”

“Casse-toi,” Hitch wrote back.

 _Fine,_ Annie thought. She thought of a thousand mean things to say, but she knew it wouldn’t help. If Mlle Nanaba really did figure out that Annie was helping Hitch cheat, the gloves would come off. Hitch would have zero reason to be civil toward Annie, not that she was being especially civil now.

 

In the locker room, Annie almost went up to Mikasa, but Hitch was already talking to her. Annie waited by her usual locker, sitting on the bench with her cane in her lap. The conversation between the two was hushed but animated. She couldn’t see Hitch’s face, but Mikasa’s looked concerned, angry. Annie figured it was more cheerleading stuff. When they both looked over at Annie, she wasn’t so sure. The three of them froze, until Annie turned her head away in a hurry. Then, all the girls playing lacrosse that day gathered together. Hitch and Mikasa were nominated to be captains. It really didn’t need saying. Who else would do it?

Annie stayed seated on the bench. Hitch selected Hannah, Mikasa selected Mina.

 _Sort of unusual,_ Annie thought. _Normally Mikasa lets Hitch take both Hannah and Mina._ And something else was off. Just how Mikasa looked so stiff. There was something worrying her, Annie realized.

Their teams decided, the girls all dressed in their reversible shirts (Hitch’s team in purple, Mikasa’s in green), got their lacrosse gear from the storage area, and went outside. Annie followed.

She met up with Shadis, sitting next to him as he stood there, shouting his usual orders. Only this time, most of his shouts were directed at Mikasa.

Mikasa, going offsides once, twice, three times. Mikasa, making incomplete passes and illegal body checks. Mikasa, so distracted, so impossibly worse than Annie at lacrosse, that Annie felt anger rising inside herself from what, she didn’t know.

Mostly, she figured, it was an anger toward Hitch. And fear. What Hitch had said in the locker room, Annie couldn’t guess. Right now, she turned the cane over and over in her hands, watching Mikasa’s own frustration build. And Mikasa’s team was unsettled, unsure as anyone else about what was happening. Mikasa didn’t call a huddle, though at one point, she pulled Mina aside and talked to her.

 _Asking for help?_ Annie thought. But it didn’t add up, because Mina went to talk with Hitch right after. The two began to argue quietly, and Mikasa walked off a few paces, clearly exasperated. So Mina was pleading with Hitch. On Mikasa’s behalf. What the fuck was going on?

Mikasa’s team lost. By a big margin. Hitch seemed happier than she’d been all day, swinging her lacrosse stick as she went to walk inside.

“What did you do?” Annie said after she caught up to her.

“Huh?” Hitch said. “Nothing yet. Maybe ask your friend?” She motioned toward Mikasa at the back of the pack. Annie had never seen her look so defeated.

Annie shot a final glance at Hitch. “You know, I can’t tell if you’re a Harding or a Kerrigan.”

“What?”

Annie walked off, back to Mikasa. “Hey,” Annie said. “What’s up?”

“It’s not…important.” Mikasa looked for all the world like she was about to cry. Or snap at her. Annie couldn’t tell which.

“Okay,” Annie said, struggling to keep up with Mikasa’s fast clip. “You’re right. Everyone loses games. It’s alright.”

Mikasa glared at her, a mix of dejection and irritation shining in her eyes.

Annie almost flinched. “Sorry. I’ll…be quiet now.” They kept walking. When they got inside, Mikasa started changing into her cheer uniform.

“I’ll be really busy tonight,” Mikasa said in a tight voice. “Maybe after too, so…”

“Oh.” Annie sat on the bench, pretending to look through her backpack for something. “Yeah, that’s…okay.” She tried to understand. That something was going on with cheer. With Hitch. With Mikasa. That it was none of Annie’s business, though a nagging feeling wouldn’t allow her to believe it was true. She heard Mikasa shut her locker.

“Hey,” Mikasa said after a moment.

Annie looked up. She’d changed into that beautiful cheer uniform, the pattern of deep purples and greens hugging her form.

“What is that paper sticking out?” Mikasa pointed at Annie’s bag, at the rolled portrait Jean had done of Annie earlier that day. The one she wasn’t supposed to open…’til after school.

“Oh. It’s Jean’s…”

Mikasa snatched it up.

“Hey!” Annie said. She was halfhearted in trying to stop her: Mikasa actually looked happy, like she was a kid unwrapping a Christmas present.

“Is it your drawing of him, or his drawing of—Oh.”

“What?” Annie said.

Mikasa gave a slight, pained smile. “I guess I’ll see you at the game after all. I’m really happy for you, Annie.”

And Annie wished she could read the look in Mikasa’s eyes as she handed back the portrait, but then Mikasa hefted her backpack and turned away, skirt swishing as she left Annie sitting there. “See you,” Mikasa said, and then she was gone.

“Bye?” The portrait had rolled itself back into its cylinder shape. Annie opened it. There she was, in the expert strokes of Jean’s pencil, her eyes not gazing down at her cane, but gazing up at Jean as they’d done so many times that day. And he was right. She did look miserable.

But there, below Jean’s signature, was a phone number and a question scribbled by it. “Come to the game with me?”

Annie stared. All the other girls were gone or leaving by the time she finally took her eyes off it. She should have been thinking of Jean, of what he meant to her, of the importance of phone numbers and invitations. But she could only think of Mikasa, of her being happy for her with that incredible, unexplained pain buried in her eyes. The same pain Annie saw drawn in Jean’s portrait of herself. As she carefully rolled up the paper and placed it in her backpack, she questioned almost everything that had happened to her in the past two weeks. She only knew that she had to go home. And get ready for tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (EDIT: Updated for explanation of who Tonya Harding is...)
> 
> Jean. Read the tags.
> 
> Thanks to ladymacbethsspot for the quick French lesson. Any mistakes at any time in this fic will be blamed expressly on Hitch.
> 
> Also **[SURPRISE.](https://erurink.tumblr.com/post/178435641337/fight-like-a-girl-a-mikannie-fic-if-annies-own)**


	7. The Fermi Paradox (Part Three)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A football game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting. I'm sorry. My life has been...a lot.

“Is this a ‘Teen Annie’ thing?” Rosie asked from her spot at the table.

Annie looked away from the cutting board, piles of broccoli chopped into neat slices she would have to trick Rosie into eating. “Wha…What’s a ‘Teen Annie’ thing?”

“Daddy says it when you act funny.” She furrowed her brow and went back to her subtraction problems.

“Oh. Well, no.” Annie went back to her chopping, the dull blade thunking through thick green stems. She had no idea that her dad was even vaguely perceptive of her moods. Not that it mattered now. He was in his room, holed up with a crossword or a book on the Civil War or whatever he’d checked out and forgotten to return. Annie tried to focus herself with each cut.

_Thunk. Help Rosie with her homework._

_Thunk. Don’t think about gym class._

_Thunk. Don’t think about Jean. Don’t think about…_

“Will Mikasa be there?”

“Huh?” Annie said, almost slicing her thumb off. _No more chopping for now. Pay attention to your sister._

Rosie set down her pencil gently and took a deep breath. “At the game, _dummy._ We’re going, right?”

“Of course. Hey, what’s eleven minus four?” She set her knife on the cutting board and turned, leaning her back against the counter, bouncing herself idly against it as she stared down the little girl.

“Uuum…” Rosie began counting on her fingers. Annie smiled.

“You know this one, Ro.”

“No one else has to subtract such big numbers…”

“Then you’ll be ahead of the game when you get to second grade.” At least, Annie hoped so. The Leonhardt sisters seemed to be cursed when it came to math, and Annie was determined to break that curse for Rosie. But Rosie wasn’t so happy about the after-school homework sessions, especially on Fridays, especially when Annie got away with cooking in lieu of her own homework.

“It’s…eleven minus four?” Rosie clarified. “I don’t…”

Annie sighed loudly and looked to the ceiling. “Gosh, I _ate_ so much today!”

“Stop it!” Rosie said. “I’m trying to count!”

“I _ate_ and _ate_ and _ate._ ”

“It’s…EIGHT!” Rosie said, beaming.

“Bahahahaha! Little fool!” She turned back to her work, slicing with renewed gusto.

“You said…”

“Did you figure that out all by yourself, Ro?” she said without looking back. “‘Cause eleven minus four is seven.”

“You…you TRICKED ME!”

“Mmhmm…” She finished up with the broccoli. Normally the pieces would be big for a casserole, but her hope was to make Rosie forget the main ingredient among the cheese and mayo mixture. “I’m gonna steam this now,” she warned.

“Aaauggh! I have to smell it?”

“You doooo. Twelve minus four.”

Rosie was silent for a long time, Annie smiling to herself as she got the pot of water and strainer of broccoli ready for steaming.

“So what did you eat for lunch today?” Annie asked.

“That doesn’t make…it’s eight this time.”

“Is it?” Annie turned on a stove burner.

“I don’t know, Annie!”

Annie smiled mysteriously.

“TELL ME!”

“What’s eight plus four?”

“What does that have to do with ANYTHING?”

Annie laughed, explaining eight plus four and twelve minus four to Rosie while she waited on the broccoli and pulled out her phone. She groaned as she realized what she was searching for: a text from Mikasa.

“What?” Rosie said, hopping down from her chair.

“Finish your homework, Ro.” She stared at her phone. No new messages. And why would there be? Sure, last night had been nonstop texting, but since what had happened in gym class today, Annie didn’t know where they stood. What was it? They didn’t have a fight, Mikasa wasn’t mad at Annie, or anything. It was more likely that she was mad at Hitch, which was more or less a constant, given the things Mikasa had said about her co-captain to Annie.

Rosie wandered over, standing next to Annie to see the phone that she held away from her.

“Nosey,” Annie said.

“Are you texting Mikasa?”

Annie dropped her phone to her side. “No. I’m not.”

“Do you want me to do it?”

“That doesn’t seem like a good idea…” She put the phone back into her pocket and got out the big yellow bowl she’d use to mix ingredients. “Get the cream cheese, cheddar, parmesan, and mayo.”

“That sounds gross.”

“Yeah. But it tastes good all together.”

Rosie stared at her.

“You’ve eaten this before! It’s good.”

“It sounds like white people food.”

“Rosie, I’d hate to inform you, but you come from a long line of ‘white people.’”

“Hm.” Rosie went to the fridge, piling ingredients in her arms. She stood on her tiptoes and dropped them onto the counter unceremoniously.

“Thanks,” Annie said. “Where did you hear that stuff about white people?”

Rosie shrugged. “My friend Tyler.”

“Who’s that?”

“Why aren’t you texting Mikasa?”

Annie let out a breath, letting Rosie evade her question for now. She spooned cream cheese into the bowl. Casserole was all about approximation and tasting. Measuring cups were a hassle to wash anyway. “I dunno, Ro,” she finally said. “Mikasa doesn’t feel good today.” She felt Rosie’s eyes on her as the words sunk in.

“But I can help.”

Annie laughed. She added the mayo. “How?” She followed the mayo with handfuls of cheddar, and several shakes of parmesan

“She likes me! I’ll do it.”

Annie sighed. Maybe a text from her little sister really could cheer Mikasa up. “Sure.”  
 She pulled out her phone. “Don’t say anything I wouldn’t say.”

“Okay!” Rosie took the phone in her little hands and made a dash toward the hall. “I’m gonna text her you like her booooobs!”

“NO YOU ARE NOT, ROSAYLN IRA LEONHARDT.” Annie limp-sprinted down the hall, but Rosie was young and fast, barricading herself in the bathroom with the metal click of the lock. Annie jiggled the door handle, but all she heard was Rosie’s muffled giggling.

“Okay, Rosie,” Annie said, shifting herself to take the sudden sting off her bad ankle. “How about you text her anything _but_ that?”

More laughter.

“Please!”

“Okay, okay,” Rosie said.

Whatever Rosie was sending took forever, so long that Annie was able to calm herself and remember the broccoli steaming on the stovetop. “This is NOT over,” she said to the door. She hobbled to the kitchen (her cane was long forgotten under the table) and set to mixing the broccoli pieces into the bowl. She spiced the mixture and spooned it all into a glass dish. She was sliding it into the oven when she heard someone approaching.

“Rosie, you know I love you, but I _will_ destroy everything that you hold de—Oh. Hi, Dad.”

“What happened?” he asked, her threat bouncing off him. He stood, tall and disheveled in the at the entrance to the kitchen, his hair unkempt and his beard stubbly and dark against his face. “I heard yelling,” he said. “Was there a fire?”

“Was there a… _No,_ Dad. Does it look like there was a fire?” She gestured around her.

He seemed to consider her question very carefully, scratching absently at his chin before saying, “I suppose not. What’s in the oven?”

“Broccoli casserole.”

“Ah. Can I have some?”

“Pff. Yeah?”

“Okay. I didn’t eat lunch.”

Annie sighed. “Why didn’t you eat lunch?” She walked past him, leaning into the hall to see if Rosie had come out yet. This was the longest conversation she’d had with her father in a while, and she felt almost like she was talking to a stranger. Super awkward.

“I forgot to,” he said.

“Forgot to eat? Surprising,” Annie muttered. He forgot a lot of things: his keys (until he got to the car empty-handed), his phone (never charged, never answered), and, Annie always thought, his daughters (how to be a father, how to be present, or whole, or human). Annie went back to the oven and set the timer.

Rosie waltzed in, waving Annie’s phone. “She didn’t answer yet,” she said as if she hadn’t, in fact, stabbed her older sister in the back.

Annie snatched the phone away. “Terrible idea. What did you write?” She read the text out loud. “’Hi this is _reelly_ annie i hope i see you tonite pritty lady by?’” Annie sighed and typed out some damage control. She’d have to help Rosie more with her spelling. Or at least turn on her auto-correct.

Annie: Yeah that was NOT me

Rosie scampered off, tittering, and put the table between her and her sister.

“That was pretty lame, Ro. Mikasa’s not gonna believe you.”

“Who’s Mikasa?” her father asked, taking a seat at the table.

“When will the food be ready?” Rosie said.

“In eleven minus six,” Annie said as she cleaned up the counter.

“Uuum…”

“Five,” her dad said.

“DAD!”

“What?”

“Let Rosie answer?”

“It’s five!” Rosie said happily, taking a seat at the table.

“Ah. Good job, Ro,” Annie said, shaking her head. She got busy pretending to clean up the counter again when she said, “Listen, Ro…we’re gonna be sitting with someone else at the football game.”

“With Mikasa?” Rosie asked. “But she’ll be busy…”

“No.”

“Who’s that?” her dad asked again.

“It’s not Mikasa,” Annie said.

“But who—”

“That means…” Rosie said, working out her thoughts before exclaiming, “you have TWO friends now?!”

“He’s not a—” Annie stopped herself, but it was too late. She turned to Rosie and her father, both staring at her before they made meaningful eye contact with each other. Rosie covered her mouth with both hands, half her father’s mouth turning into a slight smile.

“Shut up,” Annie said. She took a look inside the oven. The casserole bubbled. Annie slammed the door and waited, tapping her foot and not turning to her family. She faced the oven for a while, stubbornly refusing to look at her dad or sister. The awkward moment stretched until Annie didn’t know what to do.

“What’s his name?” her father asked.

“Is he Mikasa’s friend?” Rosie said.

“You know, I still don’t know who that is…”

“This has nothing to do with Mikasa,” Annie said at last. She turned to face them.

“But—”

“Mikasa is Annie’s best friend!”

“Ah. I see.”

“Do you want something to drink?” Annie said, going to the fridge. She yanked it open, the bottles in the side compartment rattling with her overuse of force.

“But now Annie has another secret friend. A boy,” Rosie whispered loudly.

Annie huffed. “That’s been established, Ro.” She didn’t want to think of Jean as “a boy,” as someone other than a kid she knew from school. She got out a gallon of milk, going to the cabinets for three tall glasses. Preoccupied, she held everything in her hands at once, not sure what the next step was.

“They’re established,” Rosie whispered to her father.

“Aha,” he said. She barely registered the sound of a kitchen chair scooting back.

And she felt like she’d forgotten something, so she turned toward the fridge, smacking right into her dad and nearly dropping a glass.

“Hey, what—”

“You left the fridge open,” he explained.

Annie closed her eyes, patience waning. “Just sit down.”

He backed off, and Annie put the milk away, freeing up her hands a bit.

“Food,” Rosie said. The oven had begun beeping, announcing that the casserole was done.

“Shit,” Annie muttered. She dropped the glasses on the counter, stared back at the fridge like she’d forgotten something again, got an oven mitt, and forgot which drawer had the pot holders. She was standing stock still in the middle of the kitchen, holding a single oven mitt when she realized she’d put away the milk before pouring any.

“Potholders are with the mitts,” Rosie said helpfully, starting to stand.

“I know that,” Annie said. “Sit.” The pain in her ankle flared, and she limped over to confront the oven, opening it and reaching in with her mitt, only then realizing she should have taken Rosie’s help.

“Shit.”

“What’s _wrong_ with her?” Rosie asked.

“Teen Annie thing,” her father said quietly.

“Should we help?”

“Well. I never know what to do…”

Annie pulled out the casserole and wheeled around to see Rosie nodding solemnly.

“You know what?” Annie said, plopping the casserole dish onto the counter (no potholder).

“What?” her family said in unison.

She got out two bowls and spoons, banging cabinet doors and drawers shut, slopping casserole portions into the bowls, her movements brash but efficient. She came this close to shattering her family’s bowls onto the table.

“Enjoy your casserole,” Annie said and grabbed her backpack from under the table.

 “You forgot your bowl,” Rosie said.

“No!” Annie said, storming off, as much as her bad ankle would allow. “I’m not hungry.”

“So. Are we having milk?” she heard her dad ask.

 

After slamming her door, Annie pulled out her portrait, _Jean’s_ portrait, and spread it on the bed, pinning the curling paper under two textbooks. She sat with her back to the wall, cross-legged, and observed her sad eyes reflected in graphite. She took the phone number Jean had written in the bottom corner and put it into her phone. And started texting Jean.

And _un_ texting Jean. Then texting him again, erasing every word until she got so frustrated that she texted the first thing she could think of and forced herself to press send.

Annie: Hey. Can I bring my sister?

It was stupid, but at least it was casual, not too eager, not something that screamed how nervous she was, how much she dreaded going. And why should she dread it? It was just Jean, the kid she’d known since freshman year, the best artist in class, the boy who, for some reason, was trying to like her.

“You drew your mother.”

Annie jumped, nearly dropping her phone as she whipped her head to the door. “Dad!” He’d opened it so quietly she hadn’t even noticed. Her back was to the wall, and the door was near the foot of her bed, to the right. How long had he been standing there? “What? No,” she said, looking down at the drawing. “That’s…that’s me.”

He entered hesitantly, holding a bowl of casserole and a glass of milk in his hands. Annie set the phone on the portrait, blocking Jean’s signature, his number, and the invitation to the football game.

“Rosie said to bring this.” He went around to the desk next to her bed, placing the food and milk where she could reach.

“Oh. Thanks.”

“You look a lot like her.”

“Rosie?”

“No. Your mother. Before.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“You should eat.”

“…I will.”

He didn’t leave.

“Thanks?” she said again, waiting as he hovered there, next to her desk, the steaming bowl of food, and the milk.

“It wasn’t so messy,” he said.

“The…casserole?”

He looked at her strangely, then looked back to the portrait. “No. Your mother’s hair. It was always down. Longer.”

Annie took the portrait, letting it roll up again. “Yeah. We’re different people.”

“I know.”

Annie looked at him. He hesitated like he was trying to focus for once.

“You didn’t draw that,” he said.

“No. A classmate did.”

He nodded. “I can drive you tonight.”

Annie shook her head. “Nah. I’ll drive. I don’t know how late the game’s gonna go so...”

Her dad raised his eyebrows. “Sure. Don’t have too much fun.”

“Augh, Dad!” Her phone pinged. His eyebrows only went higher, another half-smile spreading on his face. “Just go eat,” she said.

He left, not remembering to shut her door.

Annie picked up her phone. The message she saw made her breath hitch.

Mikasa: We need to talk

As she stared, another message came in, from Mikasa again.

Mikasa: After the game?

Before she could gather her thoughts, a third message appeared.

Jean Kirschtein: Sure. Where u wanna meet?

Annie threw down her phone and put her face in her hands. “Dammit!”

“What’s dammit?” Rosie said in the doorway.

“Nothing…Shouldn’t you be finishing your casserole?”

“I had some.”

“Did Dad make you eat any broccoli?”

Rosie bit back a smile. “Nooo…” Then she looked at Annie’s desk. “But you didn’t eat any either.”

“Ah.” She breathed out and closed her eyes.

“Are you mad?”

Annie looked down at her hands. “No. Thanks for the food. And the milk.”

“The milk was Daddy’s idea. Are we still going to the football game?”

Annie picked up her phone, opening it to Mikasa’s messages.

_We need to talk…_

“Yeah,” she said. “We have to.”

 

Annie slipped into the drivers’ seat, throwing her cane to the side and reacquainting herself with a car she hadn’t driven in over a year. There was nowhere to go in Trost, nowhere she needed to be that wasn’t in walking distance. Besides school, and she couldn’t drive there when her dad needed to go to work and drop off Rosie at the elementary school. And as concerned as she was over her dad’s spacey driving, Annie was lazy enough to let him drive her most of the time. He’d never had an accident, not once, so it made her feel like he actually cared enough to focus on keeping his daughters safe. But she’d do it herself tonight. She wouldn’t let him help her after he and Rosie bonded so much over Annie’s obvious embarrassment.

“Did you text him back?” Rosie said from the backseat.

Annie gripped the steering wheel. She’d just backed out of their driveway and was about to turn left toward school.

“Yeah, I did.” She shifted into drive just as her phone received a burst of texts, one after the other.

“Fuuuuuh…..riiiiiickk,” Annie moaned, altering her swear before Rosie caught on.

An earlier text from Jean had said it was “cool” for them to meet at the game, and had asked what time she’d be there. Annie response had been “7.” Just “7,” and she wasn’t gonna add to that. She’d spent time in her room, checking her phone to see Jean’s reply, hoping it was Mikasa, who would explain why they needed to talk. Annie’s reply to Mikasa’s worrying message had been, “Okay.”

She figured this flurry of texts was from Jean, finally replying, perhaps impatient that Annie was already almost ten minutes late. She ignored the noise in her pocket, focusing on driving and hoping that Rosie wouldn’t chime in.

Rosie chimed in.

“Lemme read ‘em,” she said, leaning forward from her seat.

“Never again, Ro,” Annie said, squinting into the dark with a suspicion that the left headlight had burned out without her dad noticing. Rosie relented, leaving Annie to her obsessive thoughts.

First, there was the Jean problem. It was cute how eager he was, and she hoped that he was eager enough for the both of them. At the same time, she had the sense that relationships didn’t work that way. Not that she knew too much about any of that.

Then, the thought of Mikasa’s ominous texts came off the back burner. Needing to talk was never good. Annie had never “needed to talk” in her entire life. Or she’d never _wanted_ to. So far, she’d squeaked by in life with a minimum of heart-to-hearts.

 _And how’s that been working out for you?_ she thought. It felt like something Nurse Mike would say to her.

Annie’s phone gave another text warning, though this one was likely just the noise to remind her of the previous texts, a minute or two later. There was little traffic at this point, so Annie risked pulling the phone from her pocket. “Here,” she said to Rosie. “ _Please_ just read the texts to me. I’ll disown you if you do anything else.”

“Disown…”

Annie reached back with the phone until she felt Rosie grasp it. “It means we wouldn’t be family anymore. ‘I have no son,’ and all that.”

“Uuuh, okay…Annie, Mikasa said hi to me!”

“WHAT?!” Annie nearly swerved off the road as she turned to face Rosie. “That was her?”

“If you crash I’ll disown you,” Rosie said.

Annie righted herself. “Sorry. What else did Mikasa say?”

“Uummm…There’s one that says, ‘we need… to talk,’ and then—”

“Those are old ones. Read after I said ‘okay.’”

“Okay,” Rosie said. “’And hi. To Rosie,’ is the next one. Then, ‘I’m…sorry I’ll ex… _explain?_ E-ver-y-thing aaaffffter the…game!’ Then, ‘You can… _watch_ us.’ Then, ‘Tell me. If the… _rooting…_ is good een…?’”

Annie nodded, and glanced into the rearview mirror. “Rooting? Rooting is… routine? I think it’s routine.”

“Routine,” Rosie said. “Tell me if the routine is good eennn…’”

“Enough?” Annie said.

“Yeah. She wants to know if the routine is good enough. Then she says, ‘I don’t…think it’s good. Enough.’”

“Is that all,” Annie whispered.

“No. The last one says, ‘I’m worried.’”

“Okay. Thanks,” Annie said, lapsing back into paying attention to her driving. She thought for sure it had been Jean texting. These texts weren’t like the Mikasa that Annie knew. Or thought she knew. For Mikasa to worry so intensely. To even send that many texts in a row.  And finally, to seek reassurance like that. That wasn’t her. A bad feeling gripped Annie by the throat.

Then another text came in.

“Rosie…” Annie said.

“It says ‘where we…meet-ing?’ Oh. From the boy. Jjjjeaaan Kirrrrss…”

Annie reached back for the phone, and Rosie placed it in her palm.

“Jean Kirschtein,” Annie said. Rosie didn’t respond.

Annie stashed the phone back in her hoodie pocket and kept driving.

 

They reached the parking lot, already overwhelmed by cars. The junior varsity team would be finishing their game now, with Annie’s and dozens of other cars arriving early for the main attraction. When Annie found a spot, she parked and got out her phone, re-reading Mikasa’s messages.

Mikasa: And hi to Rosie

Mikasa: I’m sorry I’ll explain everything after the game

Mikasa: You can watch us

Mikasa: Tell me if the routine is good enough

Mikasa: I don’t think it’s good enough

Mikasa: I’m worried.

Annie typed the first thing she could think of, sending it out in two texts.

Annie: Why worry? You’re always more than good enough.

Annie: You’re Mikasa.

The truth was, Annie wasn’t sure her reply itself was “good enough.” What did Mikasa care what someone like Annie thought about cheer? But…why had Mikasa bothered to text those things in the first place?

Rosie shifted in the backseat, causing Annie to look up.

“You ready, kiddo?”

“Yeah,” Rosie said. “You’re late.”

They unbuckled and opened their doors. “Nah,” Annie said. “It’s okay.”

“He’s waiting, right?”

Annie shrugged and shut her door, pocketing the keys. “I guess so. Hey, we’d better leave Mikasa alone ‘til after. She has to focus.”

“’Kay.”

They walked through the lot to the sidewalk, Annie only realizing then how cold the weather had gotten. It was a coldsnap that hit you only when the wind came, one that made you regret ever leaving your house.

They had to navigate around the red clay track surrounding the football field where the junior varsity team was finishing their game. They passed the opposing team’s bleachers, with very few spectators occupying the raised metal benches.

As they moved forward, Annie clutching at Rosie’s hand, she could smell popcorn and pretzels for sale in the food tents by the home bleachers. The cheerleaders gathered in front of those bleachers, on the track. Sitting, standing, stretching, sipping water, outfitted in their deep, resplendent colors, with black leggings to guard against the cold. Their arms were bare. Annie shivered, and her eyes automatically sought out Mikasa.

The panic rising in Annie was shoved down with Rosie’s chattering. “When will the cheerleaders start? I’ve never been to a football game. Should I sit apart from you and the boy you like? I don’t wanna sit by myself. What if I—Annie, ooowwww let go!”

“Hm? Oh.” Annie released her from an unintentional death grip. “Sorry.”

Rosie rubbed at her hand and walked on. “…Hey. That’s the pretty girl!” Rosie said, pointing.

“Mikasa?”

“No!” Rosie took off, turning back once to say to Annie, “I think her name’s Mina!”

“Rosie, wait!” She rushed after her sister, cane slowing her as her heart and mind raced. Annie stepped onto the astro turf of the field that Rosie was cutting through. As she got closer, she saw Mikasa standing there, with Hitch, their backs to the approaching Leonhardts. They stood with postures Annie identified as “in charge,” gesturing to a group of cheerleaders. _Don’t do it like this. Like_ this, Annie thought, and in spite of herself, she smiled. Mikasa was in her element.

“MINA!” Rosie called. Every single cheerleader turned, surprised looks on their faces as they recognized the little girl they’d met at McDonald’s the other night.

Annie slowed. It was already too late. Mina and Hannah were on the outskirts of the group, closest to Annie, and when Rosie jumped into Mina’s arms (shocking to Annie, given her sister’s usual shyness), the other girls stared, talking low as they saw Annie walk up; Mikasa and Hitch, in the center of the group, both strangely aloof, turned their backs, focusing once more on the girls they’d been ordering around.

“Hi!” Mina said. “What’s up, Rosie?”

“Mina! This is my first football game!”

Annie reached them at last, standing slightly apart from the others. Hannah folded her arms, looking grumpy and put off.

“Oh, really? Are you watching us tonight?” Mina said. They’d stopped hugging, and Mina bent low to Rosie’s level.

“Uh-huh! Will you do a pyramid? Are you gonna be on top?”

“Yeah, we have a pyramid planned, I think.” Mina straightened and looked off to Mikasa and Hitch, still busy with other girls. “But the captain is the one on top.”

“Mikasa?”

Mina nodded absently, taking her eyes off of Mikasa and Hitch to stare at the ground. “Yeah.”

Annie studied Mina’s somber face, then Hannah’s shit-ass smirking one.

“Rosie…” Annie spoke up.

Rosie looked up with sudden worry. Maybe she noticed the tense air, the way no one addressed Annie, the way Mikasa ignored them, the way…

“Hey, Annie,” Hitch said. She’d walked over while Annie was calculating.

“Yeah?” Annie said.

“I’m surprised you’re here.” She crossed her arms.

“I mean…” Annie began. “I guess I am too.”

“Cheering on your friend?” Hitch said with a tilt of her head.

“No. I’m here for someone else.” Her phone pinged. Annie palmed it in her pocket but didn’t pull it out. She felt Rosie’s arms wrap around her legs, turned to see Rosie staring up, agitation in her eyes.

“Let’s go, Rosie,” Annie said. Rosie was all too eager to get away from the bad aura surrounding Hitch, tugging Annie away by her hoodie sleeve. “Good luck with your routine,” Annie said to Hitch.

“Yeah,” Hitch said. “Mikasa’s gonna need it.”

“What’s that mean?” Annie said. But she didn’t wait for Hitch’s reply, having spotted Mikasa, her back still turned. “Mikasa!” she called out, on a whim. “Check your phone!”

Mikasa turned, wide-eyed, until she composed herself at last and nodded mutely, looking off to the bench that held the cheerleaders’ sports bags and, Annie assumed, Mikasa’s cell phone.

“Come on,” Annie muttered to Rosie. There was a fence along the track barring them from the bleachers. They had to follow the fence along the track, to the right, to where it finally opened for them. Now around it, they turned to follow the fence the opposite way, the sidewalk ramping upward toward the bleachers raised up on the concrete.

“To the top,” Annie said, intending to lead Rosie up.

Rosie glanced back at the track. “Not at the bottom? By the cheerlea—”

“I told you _not_ to bother them,” Annie said. “Didn’t I?”

Rosie gawked up at her, terror in her eyes. Then her voice squeaked out small and hurried, and Annie knew she was about to get emotional fast. “You told me not to bother Mikasa,” Rosie said. “I didn’t bother Mikasa. I didn’t even…I didn’t…” The tears already streamed down her face. Loud hiccupped sobs would follow if Annie didn’t fix it.

She dropped her cane and lifted Rosie onto the bleachers’ first seat, making her about a head shorter than Annie.

Holding her by the shoulders she said, “I’m sorry, Roro. I did say Mikasa. I should have said all of them. Those girls are mean. You felt it, right?”

“N-not Mina.”

Annie sighed. “No. Maybe not Mina. But for now on let’s just not—”

Her phone sounded again and she pulled it out. “I’m sorry. You okay?” she said to Rosie.

“Uh-huh…”

Annie gave her a lopsided smile and looked down at her messages. “Hold on a sec…”

Jean: Where we meeting

Jean: R u here?

Annie looked up at the bleachers and took a deep breath before replying.

Annie: Yeah we just got here.

Rosie sniffed, hard, bringing Annie back.

“Hey,” Annie said, and wiped at Rosie’s tears with the sleeve of her hoodie. “I’m really sorry.”

Rosie nodded, her lip still quivering. “Why does Mikasa like them?”

Annie paused. “I don’t think she does, Roro. Maybe some of them. But…she likes being a cheerleader. It doesn’t matter how they treat me. She’s with them.” She knew it was selfish. Annie couldn’t ask for Mikasa to defend her, to ditch practice for her, to be Annie’s only friend, to be friends with only Annie. That was crazy.

“Let’s go up,” Annie said. “Then we can see where Jean is.”

“Okay.” A ghost of a smile came to Rosie’s lips.

They walked up together, to the empty back of the bleachers. They sat in the leftmost corner, aligning them with the 20-yard line, with a good view of where the cheerleaders had set up camp, more toward the bleachers’ center. Night was falling rapidly, and more people poured in. The metal seat was freezing on her palms. Then…

“Why aren’t you wearing a jacket?” Annie said.

“I’m okay,” Rosie answered. She had on a long-sleeved pink shirt, but anyone could see that it wasn’t enough. It was just that Annie saw too late.

“Here…” She took off her hoodie. She only had a long-sleeved black tee on underneath, but Annie wasn’t gonna let her sister sit there shivering. She felt like such an idiot, not noticing something so obvious, so easy to fix. Until they left the house and got all the way here.

“Thank you,” Rosie said quietly.

“You okay?”

Rosie pulled the hoodie over her head, drowning in a pool of grey fabric. “Yeah.”

Annie surveyed the crowd. The janitor and Mr. Smith, both in heavy coats, sat up by the cheerleaders. Nurse Mike was off by the benches that the football team used. Annie guessed he was there to take care of any injuries.

Annie shivered, wondering where Jean was. She finally spotted him walking at the bottom of the bleachers. With Sasha and Marco. Annie raised her arm, and they spotted her almost immediately, Sasha pointing excitedly, Jean facepalming. He waved at her, and the three of them headed up the bleachers.

“Which one is he?” Rosie asked.

“Um. He has the weird hair?”

“Hiii, Annie!” Sasha said as they arrived. “Marco and I are gonna sit over there. Right, Marco?”

“Right…have fun.”

“Just…go,” Jean said to them, making Sasha burst into laughter.

Annie swallowed. Sasha whispered something in Marco’s ear with a devilish smile on her face, and Marco nodded, giving her a smile of his own. They walked off to sit several yards to the right, a spot where they could see the couple easily enough.

“You can just ignore them,” Jean said.

Annie nodded. “Yeah. Honestly, I’ve been ignoring Sasha since grade school, so I think we’re all good…”

“Hm.” He sat next to her. “Your sister?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Rosie, this is Jean.”

“Hi,” Rosie said. Her arm flopped in the overlong hoodie sleeve.

Jean tilted his head. “Nice to meet you. Are you cold, Annie?”

“Nah.” The wind picked up at that moment, and Annie fought against shivers and chattering teeth.

Jean unzipped his black jacket, shaking his head ruefully.

“No,” Annie insisted. “I’m alright.” Chivalry, or people being nice to her, made Annie overthink things. But before she knew it, the jacket was in her hands. She knew Sasha would be staring, and took Jean’s earlier advice to just ignore her.

 “…Thanks. For the Jean jacket, I guess.” She glanced at him. He was in a thin black Weezer tee, valiantly feigning that he wasn’t freezing cold.

“Don’t mention it…And don’t ever say ‘Jean jacket’ again,” he joked.

Annie smiled. “I’ll think about it.”

She was saved from further talking by the marching band, approaching from the other side of the field, an enthusiastic announcer hyping everything up over an intercom. Annie looked to the source, a booth centered at the top of the bleachers.

“Heeeere’s that beautiful marching baaand!” the announcer said. “Brought to you by, uh, whoever the band director iiiis…”

Jean sighed. “Dammit, Connie. I always tell him he doesn’t have to yell so much.”

“Connie Springer?” Annie said. “You’re serious?”

Jean fixed his eyes on her. “God, I wish I wasn’t.”

Annie nodded and faced forward. The swell of brass and the rattle of a dozen drums hit harder as the band finally came into sight. She focused on the sound, and the shining gold and silver instruments coming into view, the conductors walking backwards, waving their arms, all their green hats each with a single purple feather on top.

Connie kept on as the varsity team hustled out from the locker room behind the bleachers. “And theeereeeee’s the Trost Unicorns already set to dominate against the Jinae Dragons! It’s sure to be a…”

“Whose bright idea was it to let him have a mic?” Annie asked.

“I have no idea,” Jean said. “I think he just walked into the announcer’s box one day and didn’t leave.”

“Ah.”

“QB Reiner Braun coming to us all the way from POUND TOWN,” Connie said, and Jean pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Is Pound Town near us?” Rosie said from Annie’s left.

“No, Ro. I don’t think so.”

Connie went on to talk about all the football players, finally settling on Franz.

“There’s Fraaaanz KEFKA who has earned a BIG congratulations asking out Haaaaaaannnnah DIAMONT! Kefka proudly wears the number three on his back and Hannah on his arm, causing rumors to fly…”

“Connie’s gonna talk himself to death someday,” Jean said.

“I can’t believe it…” Annie said, almost to herself.

“What?” Jean said. “That Con—”

“No. His fucking last name…is Kefka. Franz. Kefka. That’s…the stupidest damn thing I’ve ever heard in my. Entire. Life,” Annie said. The literary allusion, the fact that the Kefkas had been pretentious enough to name their son Franz, was so funny to Annie that she couldn’t even begin to laugh.

“Okaaay,” Jean said. “You’re a fan of Franz Kafka, then?”

“Never read him. But now I know I go to school with the next best thing.”

“Heh. I guess.”

Annie watched the football players, Reiner out front, a number one emblazoned in green on the back of his purple uniform. Her eyes skipped all over the players. She was trying not to think about purple and green. The same colors worn by the cheerleaders, by…

 _Her._ The person Annie didn’t want to think about, didn’t need to think about. She didn’t want or need to look in her direction, didn’t want or need to think that maybe, maybe she was thinking of Annie too, a little bit, or at all.

Annie was okay. Annie was fine. And so was Mikasa.

Mikasa’s back was turned. She was hopping up and down to keep warm, amping up to lead her team. Annie shuddered and refocused on the marching band’s rendition of “Brick House.”

“Are you okay?” Jean asked.

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m cool.”

“You look like you did in my portrait of you.”

“Right. I just hate music. That’s normal, right?”

Jean gave a courteous laugh at her crummy joke. “All music?”

“All music.”

“So you don’t like…Cardi B? Radiohead? The Beatles?”

“Overrated,” Annie said.

“Beethoven?”

“Ha. Dead for a reason.”

“Are you…implying that you killed Beethoven?”

Annie turned to Jean. “Are you implying that I didn’t?”

“All these years in art class with you,” Jean said, “and no one knew you had such a weird sense of humor.”

Annie remembered Mikasa’s words at lunch… _Please don’t use your sense of humor on Jean. You’ll scare him off._

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said. He smiled at her, and she did her best to match him. The other team came out, and Jean and Annie were plunged into another silence. Rosie seemed happy enough, crawling into Annie’s lap, asking when the band would play again.

But now it was the cheerleaders, waving their green and purple pom poms, shouting and bouncing to rally the crowd. Mikasa’s flips, her waving arms, her kicks, her every motion, somehow unnerved Annie, though she was hard-pressed to say exactly why. Then they did the pyramid Rosie had been promised, but instead of being excited, Rosie looked almost upset.

“She’s not happy,” Rosie said.

Annie nodded. If a seven-year-old could see the strain from this distance, Annie really should worry. Her mind centered on the Fermi Paradox. All of a sudden, all those great distances, all those uninhabited planets, all the apparently empty spread of the universe, all of it struck Annie as incredibly tragic. Humans stood on Earth surrounded by billions of others, but still they searched for something greater.

Before Annie could ask herself what she was searching for, the football game began in earnest. Players got penalties, touchdowns, tackles, the cheer team springing into action whenever something of note happened. The night grew colder, and as the teams clashed, Annie could only think of Mikasa tackling her to the ground during lacrosse, carrying her, worrying, staying by her side. Maybe the Fermi Paradox was pointless. Maybe everyone should just stop looking and appreciate what they have.

“You like football?” Annie asked Jean suddenly. Anything to stop her mind from turning.

“No.”

“Oh. So is this…”

“No,” Jean said forcefully. Annie looked up. He was staring ahead, at two figures approaching them, one in a band uniform, the other in plain clothes. Annie made out their faces: Armin Arlert and Eren Jaeger, Mikasa’s best friends, headed straight for them.

“Kirchstein,” Eren said, pausing on the stairs a few steps below, his green eyes burning with undisguised malice.

“Jaeger,” Jean responded curtly. “What do you want?”

Annie eyed them. “You two…”

“…hate each other,” Eren finished.

Jean nodded. “You said something right for once in your life. I’ll give you that.”

“What the f—"

“Eren!” Armin said nervously. He took off his marching band hat and tucked it under his right arm, gripping his flute in his hands. He came up and sat on the step in front of Annie, turned to face her. “We wanted to talk to Annie?”

“Oh. Yeah…” Eren said, taking a seat next to him.

“Me? Why?” It was still a foreign concept to Annie that anyone would volunteer to talk with her.

“Um…” Armin said, glancing between Rosie and Jean. “We’re worried about Mikasa.”

Annie sat up, and Rosie did the same in her lap.

“What’s wrong with her?” Annie asked.

Eren and Armin shared a glance.

“We…were hoping you would tell us,” Armin said.

“We went to hang out with her before the game,” Eren said. “She usually has time. But she was, uh, in captain mode.”

“Captain mode,” Annie said.

“More than usual,” Armin replied. “I think you’re aware of how she has to be the best at pretty much everything. But this is different.”

Annie looked out over the field. Mikasa stood with her back to the bleachers, watching the football game.

“How is it different?”

“She’s…focused but,” Armin said.

“Pissed,” Eren finished.

“Okay…” Annie said, not following.

“This is just a regular football game…” Armin said tentatively. “But suddenly she’s changed the routine completely. Something about practicing for a competition… It’s like she has something to prove.”

Something to prove… Annie remembered Mikasa’s worry at lunch over the October cheer competition. But that had been relatively normal anxiety, Annie had thought. Ever since gym class, since her conversation with Hitch…

“Is it Hitch? Is she pissed at her?” Annie asked.

Armin sucked in a breath. “Sure, maybe. But she’s been mad at Hitch before. Right now Mikasa’s um…”

“Crazy,” Eren said.

“Relatively,” Armin said. “I’ve seen her angry before. But she also seems…unsettled too.”

“What can I do?” Annie pleaded.

“You’re so close to her now,” Armin said, “that we thought you could answer that.”

“I’m not…” All her doubts stirred in the pit of her stomach.

“Mikasa doesn’t get close to people,” Armin went on. “She’s social, but she’s only close to me and Eren, really. And now…it’s happening really fast, but I think she’s feeling close to you as well.”

“She doesn’t even eat lunch with us now,” Eren grumbled.

“Who would?” Jean said under his breath.

“Bite me, ‘Schtein,” Eren said. “Annie, we can’t get anything out of Mikasa. Maybe you can?”

“Um…I can talk to her. But I don’t think it’ll help.”

“Just try,” Armin said with a small, calm smile.

“After the game,” Annie said. Then the crowd roared, and they all turned their attention to Trost celebrating a touchdown. Mikasa and her girls struck up a cheer, hopping and kicking in an excited unison.

“After halftime,” Armin said decisively. “I really don’t like to see her like this.”

Annie looked again. Their spot on the bleachers had to be 100 yards from Mikasa’s group. Annie watched Mikasa’s smile, wide and exaggerated, but indistinct. She didn’t know what Armin was seeing.

But the answer came from Eren. “She’s stiff. I’ve been to all her games since 6th grade. She’s never been like this. With everything about Historia leaving, and Mikasa getting the captain spot over Hitch…God. I miss Historia. She looked so good in that uniform. Maybe if she and Mikasa were still teammates, Mikasa could have given her my numb—”

“Eren,” Armin said. “I think chances were pretty slim for you?”

“Ah,” Eren said. “That…Maybe she’s bi?”

“A man can dream,” Jean said, “but in your case, that’s about it. _May_ be if you were able to impress her by being decent at football like _Reiner_ is…”

“Hi what the FUCK do you think—” Eren started.

“DO NOT,” Annie snapped, “say that in front of my sister.” She’d cupped her hands over Rosie’s ears.

“Oh. Sorry,” Eren said, the fire gone from him. “Kirschtein, just because I couldn’t make varsity—”

“And quit,” Jean put in.

“And got _injured,_ ” Eren said. “Doesn’t fuh- _freaking_ mean Historia wouldn’t date—”

“Anyway, Annie,” Armin said.

Annie lowered her hands from Rosie’s ears.

Armin went on. “All this captain stuff, it might be too much, even for Mikasa. And Eren and I really tried, Annie. It’s up to you now.”

“After halftime,” Annie said, “I’ll talk to her.”

The two boys sighed in relief.

“Thanks, Annie,” Eren said. “Kirschtein, you can still bite me.”

“Whatever,” Jean said. “See you in hell.”

“I…Well hell is…with you?”

Armin whispered in Eren’s ear. “Ah!” Eren said. “With you here, I’m already there…In hell?” he confirmed with a look at Armin.

Armin nodded sagely.

“YEAH!” Eren said. “In hell.”

“Good one, _Armin_ ,” Jean said.

“Thanks!” Armin said cheerily, waving his hat and leading Eren away. “And thank you, Annie. I’m sure you’ll get through to Mikasa.”

Annie gave a little nod, and the two headed away.

“That was weird,” Jean said.

“Yeah…”

“The skinny flute boy is right,” Rosie said. Annie looked down at her. “You can talk to her. She likes you a lot.”

“Um…” Annie’s face heated up.

“You two are friends, right?” Jean said. “It’s almost halftime. Talk after.”

“Sure…Jean are we—”

“And oooooveeeeer in thiiisss corner!” Connie Springer shouted into his mic.

“What now?” Jean muttered.

“If you’ll all turn your heads to the uuuh,” Connie went on, “to the left, I think, you’ll see my good buddy _Jean Kirschtein_ and the _lovely_ yet intimid—AUGH!”

Annie and Jean craned their necks, and with a slight scuffle and rustling of the microphone, Shadis’s voice suddenly boomed from the intercom.

“CONNIE SPRINGER, YOU ARE HEREBY BANNED FROM THE ANNOUNCER’S BOX EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY.”

(“huh? i was just updating the students on current even—“)

“GET OUT OF MY BOX.”

(“yes sir, sorry sir…”)

The next thing Annie saw was Connie sprinting from the box, red-faced. Sasha was doubled over with laughter as Connie fled in shame.

Annie’s heart hammered, and she stared forward.

“I’m gonna go kill him. Is it alright if I go kill him?” Jean said, starting to stand before Annie grabbed him by the back of his shirt collar.

“No,” Annie said with a dead voice. “It’s fine. Really. He didn’t end up saying anything. So don’t you go saying things either.”

“Ah. Okay…”

They fell into a deep silence, staring forward as the seconds ticked by, more and more and more of them, until either of them suddenly talking would seem more unnatural than the quiet itself.

Jean was the one to break. “I’ll get us hot cocoa.”

“Uh…You don’t…”

He stood before she had time to form an answer, already making his way down the stairs when Rosie said, turning in Annie’s lap, “I get hot chocolate?”

“AND FOR ROSIE?” Annie yelled.

Jean turned and raised his arm. “Yeah!”

“You do,” Annie said. She sighed, and when her sister faced forward again, Annie rested her chin on top of Rosie’s head.

Rosie stirred slightly. “Are you okay?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Huh?”

“No. I’m fine.”

Annie waited. She didn’t want Jean to buy her something. She didn’t want to owe him anything. She knew she wasn’t supposed to feel this way about Jean, knew that her thoughts shouldn’t be so bleak, and that she should be free of worry, not thinking of Mikasa, or of anyone else. Time passed fast and slow all at once, and she buried her face in her sister’s hair.

Rosie reached one hand up and patted the side of Annie’s head.

“Jean’s coming back,” she said.

Annie sat up, suddenly stiff. Jean carried three lidded Styrofoam cups of cocoa, balancing them in his hands.

“Here,” he said with a smile.

Annie and Rosie reached out.

“Thanks,” Annie said. She nudged Rosie.

“Ah. Thank you!”

“No problem,” Jean said, taking his seat next to Annie. “Did I miss anything?”

“I dunno,” Annie said. “I don’t really care all that much…”

“Yeah…”

Her mind wandered, so much that she didn’t notice the silence growing between them for the thousandth time. She stared off, eyes automatically tracking over to the cheerleaders.

She was jolted out of her thoughts by the marching band coming in with “Eye of the Tiger.”

“Halftime,” Annie said to herself.

“Yeah,” Jean said. “You’ve got that ‘portrait’ look again.”

“Oh. You mean I look...”

“You’re really worried about her,” he said softly.

“It’ll be fine.” But her eyes strayed again. The cheerleaders were standing around now, drinking water, doing last minute stretches as the band blazed into the halftime show. Mikasa was standing off by herself. Annie could see her profile, standing like she was lost, trying to find her way in the music. Then, she looked up, and over, and directly at Annie. Annie sat rigid, eyes locked on her. Mikasa snapped her head away and stopped for a moment, her hand to her mouth, as if thinking. She walked over to Hitch. As the band began playing a number Annie didn’t recognize, she saw Mikasa’s conversation with her co-captain becoming more and more animated. Hitch was shaking her head. Annie couldn’t read Hitch’s face from here, but as she watched Mikasa’s back, she knew Mikasa was angry. About what, Annie had little clue.

Annie watched Mikasa walk to the bench, taking a seat far from her teammates. She sat there, not moving a muscle. The band finished their song, then got the crowd fired up with Queen’s “We Will Rock You.” Rosie happily played along with the stomping and clapping rhythm, swinging her feet into the metal at her heels. The music pounded into Annie. Mikasa ducked her head into her hands, as if she were in pain.

Annie had an idea of what was happening. The idea made it feel like someone was grabbing her insides into a fist and squeezing, or like someone was putting her head in a vice. She knew who that someone was. And it wasn’t Mikasa.

Hitch Dreyse and the others jumped up and went to the field, jogging out to the 50-yard line. Mikasa came last, shaking her pompoms like nothing was happening. When she turned to face the audience, she was grinning.

Annie’s stomach turned.

Cheers were shouted, pompoms raised, and energy rallied. Then the tumbling routine came. In blurs of purple-green they backflipped across the field, intersecting one another, forming intricate patterns as their bodies somehow twisted through the air, birds or ballerinas pulled back down at the last second, as if gravity or God or both had come this close to forgetting them. Mikasa danced through the air now, legs tumbling over her head in impossible physics. She landed and flipped, landed and flipped. Spun without effort, Annie thought, until she realized there existed all the unseen hours after school, blood, sweat, and practice burning through her. Extreme frustration, a need to do better, and so, so much effort, only it was painted over with the months and years of failed backflips and falls, a striving to be not great, but the greatest, something that Annie couldn’t understand, something that the awed spectators, now, couldn’t see, ever.

Annie remembered bloody palms that refused to heal; a gaze upward at the uneven bars, her eyes etched with rage; a kneeling that almost looked like prayer, but what God Mikasa prayed to, Annie couldn’t guess. Watching her now, Annie sat up. This wasn’t going to end well. Something deep in Annie’s belly told her that. The routine was almost over, the finale approaching as the girls gathered together in teams of four. In the center team was Mikasa, being lifted by Mina, Hannah, and Hitch. They supported her legs and in practiced synchronicity lifted her above their heads. Mikasa lifted her arms and Annie watched Hannah and Hitch bend their knees together, Mina in the back doing the same. Mikasa launched into the air, spinning beautifully, perfectly.

Until she wasn’t. Until the perfected smile slipped from her face as she fell backward. Slipping, slipping away until with the whole hivemind of the crowd inhaled in sync, with Annie now on her feet, cane clacking against the metal bleachers, Rosie and Jean calling out.

Annie hadn’t seen her land, if you could call it that, had only seen the horror that passed over her face as she fell back, away. The crowd murmured, and the other cheerleaders swarmed where Mikasa had fallen. It wasn’t as if she had a plan, but still Annie’s legs propelled her down the bleachers, her cane barely hitting the ground, going so fast that she might fall herself. Annie didn’t know what was happening, but she had to find out.

At the bottom of the bleachers, she was faced with going around the fence, or slipping through the railing and dropping a good five feet down. The choice was easy: she dropped her cane and slid through, lowering herself as much as she could before letting herself fall. A twang impacted her ankle. Easy to ignore. It had been so, so easy all this time, to ignore everything, to think of Mikasa. Only Mikasa.

She got to the field, Mikasa swallowed up still by a sea of green and purple skirts, Annie peeking through just enough to see Nurse Mike kneeling, to hear the strangest sound: Mikasa sobbing.

Annie stopped fighting to get through to her, listened from the outside to her choked words, asking, begging, if she could still cheer in the October competition.

Nurse Mike’s placating words barely reached her. “I don’t know when yet,” he said. “Just flex your ankle again…”

“It’s your damn fault for screwing up the stunt,” Hitch murmured, and Annie realized she was standing right next to her, a very smug-faced Hannah nodding in agreement.

“Hitch,” Annie said.

“Huh? What are you doing here?”

“Me?!” Annie said. “I know what this is, Hitch. You fucking dropped her.”

 “Wait. You think…” Hitch began.

“It was you,” Annie said to them. “Both of you. Was Mina in on it?”

“You can’t be serious,” Hannah said, sharing a look with the co-captain.

“You had to have done it on purpose,” Annie pressed, stepping closer to Hitch. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You wanna be captain that bad, asshole?”

“I didn’t drop her,” Hitch said. “She fucked up halftime on her own.”

“And our first competition,” Hannah said.

“We can do it without her…” Hitch said, and then Annie heard Mikasa, and remembered why she was really here.

“Just fix it,” Mikasa pleaded. “I have…to! I have…to go to the…” Her broken hiccupping, so unlike the stoic girl she knew, forced Annie to keep moving.

“Mikasa…” Nurse Mike said, and Annie arrived, saw Mikasa sitting up, left leg extended, tears streaking her face. Nurse Mike held her ankle gently, Mikasa’s face twisted in anguish. Mina stood by, fretting and apologizing uselessly.

Annie dropped to her knees, and at last Mikasa saw her.

“What,” Mikasa said, her voice and eyes going blank.

“What?” Annie answered. “Are you okay? I mean, your—”

“Just…just _stop_ , Annie.”

“Does it hurt a lot? I wanted to see…”

“You’re not supposed to be here. We’re not…”

More tears came, her eyes screwed shut, fists fighting into the astro turf.

Annie’s breath caught. “Come on…we’re…I thought we were…”

_Friends._

As Annie thought it, she realized the truth. Mikasa drove it home with the next words she spoke.

“I can’t. Don’t you understand that you and I aren’t…” Mikasa said in a rush, then halting, trembling, her eyes open to search the sky, never once looking at Annie, she said “…We were never supposed to be…Just…I _can’t._ ” Her last words trailed off, and she shut her eyes again, saying, so quietly, “You understand that, don’t you?”

All of the cheerleaders, their gazes suffocating Annie, Nurse Mike sitting up and glancing from Mikasa and back again, everyone at Trost High: they all knew, more than Annie ever had, that she and Mikasa could never work, that their world was far too cruel for such an allowance.

So Annie answered, in the most level, bored tone she could, Mikasa’s question. “Yes. I think I get it.”

She stood.

As she limped away, Annie felt, deep inside, her whole world, her universe, drifting in darkness. The Fermi Paradox came crashing down on her, and all at once, Annie felt hopelessly, irretrievably, alone.


	8. Survive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I mustn’t run away I mustn’t run away I mustn’t run away I mustn’t run away_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight edit to previous chapters: Rosie is seven years old, in 2nd grade.
> 
> Extreme thanks to Nuxyie for the French translation this chapter <3

_What did it matter?_ Annie thought.

Her ankle flared at each step, but it wouldn’t kill her, and her fast steps took her away from the cheerleaders, their eyes either glued to the ground or onto Annie, unless their necks were craned to see Mikasa, slumped and wounded at the center of it all. Annie registered others approaching, worried about Mikasa, she guessed. Then Jean and Rosie found Annie on the outskirts of the crowd, Rosie holding up her cane.

“Don’t need it,” Annie said, and although she limped past her sister, past her date or her friend or whoever the fuck Jean was, she wanted the pain, even deserved it, longed for the pain of an injury she could name over one she couldn’t.

“What happened?” Rosie said, trotting alongside her. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine.”

“Annie,” Jean said.

Annie turned back to him. “We’re going home,” she said and took Rosie’s hand. “Sorry.”

Jean nodded, dumbfounded. She would feel bad for him, but that would force her to feel worse than she did now. Feel one thing at a time. Toward one person. But hell, she could do better. She could hate all the cheerleaders, hate all of Trost High, hate the entire town, and while she was at it, hate everyone who made her this way, including herself. Annie walked away. The parking lot was dark in the distance, the too bright neon of the field passing beneath her feet. Rosie gripped Annie’s hand tight, and Annie knew she had to stay cool for her sake.

When they got to the car, she let Rosie in first, and stopped to stand alone in the chill. She was still wearing Jean’s jacket. Despite the cold, she took it off and hung it over her arm. For a long moment, she stayed, not feeling the bite of the wind, her head tilted back. The near-full moon showed through a drape of cloud. Her gaze flitted over the rest of the sky, looking for more. One thing about Trost, there were stars, sometimes.

When the cold finally burrowed beneath her skin, she got in the car.

“I should have turned the heat on for you,” Annie said, putting the key in the ignition.

“’S’okay…”

“She hurt her ankle. That’s all.” As she turned her body so she could back out of the space, she saw Rosie’s eyes fix on her, only for a moment, before darting away.

“She can use your cane,” Rosie said.

“No. We’ll toss it.” She swung out of the parking lot, bringing them to the start of the long road that led to their house. The homes closest to the school had expansive yards, wrought iron balconies, and ornate roofs to top their two, even three, stories. Mansions inhabited by families like the Dreyses or the Brauns or, Annie guessed, the Ackermans. Families with everything.

She knew it wasn’t true, but the bitter pain was something to focus on as her headlights swept over the homes leading to the outskirts of Trost, homes that clustered closer, homes like her own, with tiny lawns and mere feet separating neighbors that struggled with debts and the stress that came with them. Sure, rich families could be unhappy, but their advantages were endless, and Annie felt like hating them right now.

“What happened?” Rosie finally said.

Annie inhaled. “We’re back at square one.”

“Square one.”

“Starting over. From nothing.”

“What about Jean? And…”

“Who cares?” Almost home. She turned on the radio for Rosie, partly for herself. The tension was too great. She was afraid she’d make Rosie cry again.

Annie was finished with people crying. If anyone else threatened to shed a single tear, she might just lose it, whatever _it_ was that she still held on to.

The homes huddled in the cold and dark, lights on, lights off.

The Leonhardt lights were on, the kitchen and living room lit in yellow. Annie assumed it was her dad’s fault, having gone to bed again without shutting them off. But when Annie stopped the engine, a thin figure appeared in the window, a curious silhouette that disappeared after a moment.

Annie tried to shove her keys in her front pocket, only to find she didn’t have one. She turned to Rosie in the back seat, sitting in Annie’s bunched up Trost hoodie. Right.

“What?” Rosie said.

“Nothing.” Annie gave a weak smile that Rosie wouldn’t believe for a second. “Dad’s waiting up.”

Rosie nodded, and they unbuckled. Annie got out of the car, reaching back in and grabbing up Jean’s jacket as an afterthought. She slammed the car door shut and walked up the driveway, her dad opening the front door before she could hold up the keys. Annie could read the words he wanted to form but didn’t.

_Back already?_

She shoved the car keys into his hand and paced to her room, closing herself inside. She threw the black jacket and her phone on the bed, and fell to her knees in front of piles and piles of anime.

This was what she’d been waiting for. This sheltered freedom.

She knew it had never worked before, dedicating herself so deeply to series after series, losing sleep and weight and the part of herself that…No. It didn’t matter. She was just about to pick up her old standby when her door banged open.

“Sorry,” Rosie said, walking in and shutting it gently, as if she had hurt it. “Don’t watch that one.”

Annie looked down at the anime in her hands. _Serial Experiments Lain_. She knew Rosie hated it.

“Get out,” Annie said.

“No. I’m picking what we watch.”

Annie’s mouth fell open, and Rosie took _Lain_ from her hands. She could understand her sister’s rejection of it, a 90’s anime that started out weird and only got worse. She’d seen it dozens of times. The first episode always drew Annie in. The girl, Lain, started normal but became obsessive, wiring herself into a virtual world.

But apparently _Lain_ wasn’t allowed, and Annie was too shocked by Rosie’s sudden pushiness to argue.

“Here,” Rosie said, dropping a case into Annie’s hands. “You haven’t even opened this.”

“ _Ore Monogatari_?” Annie said.

_My Love Story._

She didn’t remember if she’d ever watched it online. She wasn’t really into the shoujo genre. On principle, love stories weren’t something Annie believed in.

So why did she buy this?

Annie was aware of the basic plot: large, muscular, kind of dumb boy goes after the tiny, adorable “moe” girl. They fall in love, though humorous misunderstandings plague them.

“Ugh,” Annie said, unwrapping the plastic. “Fine, whatever.”

Annie started the DVD and sat with her legs out straight in front of her, parted to let Rosie sit between and lean her head back against Annie’s torso.

The DVD menu was too cutesy and bright, the opening scene was the same, but as Annie read the English subtitles to Rosie, she couldn’t help the interested quality that rose in her voice.

_Crap. This might be good._

At the end of the episode, Rosie asked if she wanted to stop watching.

Annie stared forward, watching the night sky in the end credits turn to dawn and day. She hadn’t particularly noticed Rosie’s question, but her sister seemed to understand before she did that this would be a typical binge.

“Okay,” Rosie muttered, getting comfortable against Annie’s front. Absently, Annie squeezed her arms tighter around her sister. The second episode began.

She was hooked.

The next episode was a bit silly—the main character saving his crush from a falling construction beam—but Annie’s eyes couldn’t seem to unrivet from the screen. Even when her phone pinged.

“Annie,” Rosie said. “It might be Mikasa.”

“What?” Annie looked down at Rosie. “What about her?”

“Um…” Rosie said. “Your phone’s on the bed. It beeped.”

“Get it,” Annie said, eyes trailing back to the TV. When Rosie got up and walked away, Annie covered her mouth with her hand. Someone had texted her, and she swore on her life that she wasn’t asking for it to be Mikasa Ackerman. Mikasa waiting for her to answer, wondering if Annie was okay after all that had happened. It was a fantasy Annie didn’t want to have, but one she couldn’t seem to help. When her sister appeared at her side, Annie exhaled and took the phone.

Jean Kirschtein: are u ok?

“Idiot,” Annie said and tossed the phone to the side.

Rosie tilted her head. “Why are you being mean to him?”

“I’m…He’s not the idiot, it’s…” She didn’t know how to continue. “It’s fine, Ro.” Annie steadied her breathing. Breaking in front of Rosie wasn’t an option. “I’m fine, I’m…just…”

_Why can’t I like Jean?_

It would be the right thing to do, the reasonable thing, to respond kindly, to be grateful for the attention. To like him the way she was _supposed_ to. She could hate Mikasa. She _would_ , but at the same time, she should _like_ Jean.

 _Like a normal person does,_ Annie pressed.

“Why are you mad at him?” Rosie said softly.

“I’m…not. Jean’s just an annoying background character.”

Rosie looked up at her. “That’s not true!”

“He’s…I’m just mad at Mikasa.” Admitting it felt like she couldn’t take it back. But why should she? It was true, wasn’t it?

“Why?” Rosie said.

“She’s not my friend anymore. Said so herself.”

Rosie was silent for a moment. “She must be confused.”

Annie thought back to Mikasa’s emotional state, how overwhelmed she was, even when she delivered the deathblow.

 _You’re not supposed to be here,_ Mikasa had said in obvious pain. _We’re not…_

“Nah,” Annie sighed. “She knew exactly what she was doing.”

Rosie sat back down in Annie’s lap. She knew, a lot of the time, when to let things lie with Annie.

They resumed the episode of _Ore._ The love interest, Rinko, admitted her feelings about the main character, Takeo, to his best friend, who painstakingly made sure Takeo overheard and understood her feelings. But life wasn’t a shoujo, Annie knew. Sometimes the girl didn’t like the boy. Sometimes the girl was only the worst half of a “tsundere,” a character that acted cold and traditionally—unlike Annie—warmed up to the love interest she’d once scorned. Annie’s story didn’t qualify as a love story, a story that wrapped up countless misunderstandings into something beautiful, neat, and clean.

She got through a few more episodes before she couldn’t take it anymore.

“We’re watching something else,” Annie said. She paused and ejected _Ore._ “Where’s _Lain_?”

Rosie shook her head vigorously. “No. Something else.”

“Fine.” Annie looked at her DVDs.

She’d have to find a series worse than her own life, an anime that put its characters through hell. Her eyes ran up and down her stacks of anime. She thought of it before she saw it.

_Neon Genesis Evangelion._

She had always looked down on its lead character, Shinji, who was for some unexplained reason humanity’s only hope. In a perverse way, it made Annie thankful: hardly anyone needed her, certainly not the whole world. She could count on one hand the people who wanted her in their life.

She thought about it as she put the first DVD into the slot.

Rosie. Rosie needed her most.

The main menu screen flared to life, dramatic brass playing as Annie tried to think. Rosie cuddled up.

She supposed her father needed her, in his own way.

A flick of the remote. Audio settings. Japanese. English subtitles.

She guessed Mr. Smith and Nurse Mike needed her, at least cared for her.

Main menu again. Start.

Maybe Jean too. Maybe others wanted to know her. Though Annie didn’t know who they were anymore.

“Zankoku na tenshi no you ni…” (Like a cruel angel’s thesis…)

 _There,_ she thought, looking at her open hand. _That’s five._ Try as she might, there was no one else to add.

The show began. Annie knew how many characters loved Shinji, how many needed him, and how many used him for their own selfish ambitions. So why couldn’t she be loved, needed, even useful, to just one more person? It wasn’t so much to ask, to be that, to be that on just one more hand. She clenched that hand into a fist.

She watched Shinji waiting to meet Misato, nearly dying for the first time during an angel attack. Annie got back into it, into Shinji suffering for her. Shinji would struggle, and Annie would watch, forgetting herself. What she’d be left with after 26 episodes, she didn’t think about. Some emptiness, filled by another series she’d rush to.

26 episodes, 13 hours, give or take, once she accounted for food, the bathroom, maybe even sleep. And then there were the feature length OVAs. But it was alright. Annie had that time to spare, and more.

Shinji resisted as his lousy excuse for a father compelled him to pilot a mecha and save the world. Another hero, the wounded Rei, was wheeled in, about to take his place despite her body not being able to withstand it. Shinji, in anguish, began his silent plea:

“I mustn’t run away. I mustn’t run away. I mustn’t run away. I mustn’t run away.”

She had to pause the episode here: Rosie was slumping against her, head bobbing in sleep, making Annie realize how far past bedtime it was for a second grader.

“Okay, Rolypoly,” Annie whispered. “Bedtime.”

“Nuuuh…”

Annie carried her to her room, ignoring the resistive pain in her ankle, that piece of her body telling her brain, “This is wrong. There’s something wrong.”

She tucked Rosie in and sat at her bedside for some time, stroking her sister’s golden hair. Rosie was beautiful. It wasn’t the blue eyes or the hair color they shared. Rosie was lovely for her lightness. She truly believed in the warmth of others. She’d been betrayed by her own mother, as had Annie, but Rosie, though shy, continued making friends, burning with a love and friendliness Annie couldn’t match.

Annie put a hand to Rosie’s cheek, causing the little girl to sigh and nuzzle closer.

“Brush your teeth extra hard in the morning,” Annie said and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

She went back into the darkened hallway. Light shone down the hall, beneath her dad’s bedroom door. Annie went into her own room, closed her door, went back to watching _Evangelion_ in the dark. She pulled her knees to her chest, fixating on Shinji’s words. So maybe he was weak, but unlike her, he was strong when push came to shove. He was going to sacrifice his safety to protect a girl, a stranger, and go on to save Tokyo-3. Annie clenched her eyes shut. Why did he have so much to live for? So much more, and a stronger will to match it? Why did this protagonist get such a storyline? Useless to savior. Nothing to something. More than something. Someone. Someone important. Worthwhile.

Tears pricked at Annie’s eyes. Atypical. Maybe she was really losing it. It was so stupid. Shinji took control of the mecha, and the injured Rei was saved from a battle she could not win alone.

 _Just forget about her,_ Annie thought. _Ignore her. It’s not like you’re in love with her or something._

Annie let out a sharp laugh and lowered her head into her hands.

_I mustn’t run away._

The show played on.

Shinji was facing overwhelming terror.

And Annie was laughing.

Laughing while crying. Trying in vain to stop the sobs that welled up in her pit. She held them in her throat, but they came out and she couldn’t stop crying and she couldn’t stop laughing—laughing at what, she didn’t know. It reminded her of those poorly written supervillains who cackled uproariously when they knew that their plan was thwarted by some 15-year-old protag.

_Insane._

When her laughter drifted off at last, the episode was nearing its end. Exhaustion gripped her. She stared, empty, until the credits began.

“Fly me to the moon, and let me play among the stars,” a woman sang. Annie watched the image of the moon on water, of a woman swimming languidly. “Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars.”

Despite her sudden dip in energy, Annie knew she’d stay up ‘til it was physically impossible. The strain would hit her eyes first, then her back, her legs. She’d press the heels of her palms onto her eyelids. She’d reposition herself and stretch her legs. She’d get hungry but she’d keep going. Nothing mattered as much as the 25 episodes after this.

The song drew to its conclusion. “In other words, please be true. In other words, I love you.” And just as the credits blared into the preview for episode two, Annie’s phone rang. She stiffened. It wasn’t a text. Someone was calling her. With apprehension she moved her head a quarter-turn.

Incoming Call: Mikasa Ackerman

Annie grabbed the phone, nearly dropping as she brought it to her face. It was past midnight. Why would Mikasa call her? Why now?

As the ringtone died off, Annie gripped the phone in her hand. She didn’t need Mikasa’s explanations. Didn’t want them. They would only cause a deeper hurt. Their friendship was over. Just another teen drama ending in defeat.

Then, her phone made a noise, and Annie knew without looking that there was one new voicemail from the last person she wanted to hear from.

_Dammit. I don’t need you. I don’t want to need you._

Annie gripped the phone and threw it, slamming it into the wall to her right. With a short-lived satisfaction, she saw she’d left a black scuff on the blue paint that showed between her anime posters.

_Oh, fuck._

She’d thrown the phone into the wall she shared with Rosie’s room. She jumped up and froze when she heard Rosie’s door open. Before Annie could react, Rosie burst in without a knock.

“What was that?” She was sleepy, but her eyes caught on the phone before Annie could get to it.

“You threw your phone?”

“Um…” Annie walked over to it. The case that covered it had absorbed the damage. “Yeah. It’s fine.” She put it in her pocket, hiding it.

Rosie walked up to her, reaching her arms like she wanted to be hugged or carried. Instead, she grabbed Annie by both ears and pulled down.

“Ooowwww, Rosie, what the heck?” Annie dropped to her knees. Rosie didn’t let go but let up on the pressure.

“What’s wrong?” Rosie said, eyes full of worry.

“I…I don’t get her…” Annie began, casting her eyes down. “Ro…Why is she so hard to hate?”

“Dummy.” Rosie’s arms slipped around Annie’s sides. “Because you don’t hate her.”

 

When Rosie half-begged, half-demanded that she sleep, Annie didn’t resist. Rosie laid with her, in Annie’s bed, snuggling up while Annie laid awake and eventually, somehow, slept.

She woke up to daylight, to the sounds of her family eating breakfast on the other side of the house. Rosie had left Annie’s door open.

So. This was Saturday morning. Normally, she’d have never gone to sleep, working her way through _Evangelion_ still.

 _Not a bad idea,_ she thought and glanced at her TV. Her dad would take care of Rosie well enough, making sure she didn’t eat only Fruit Loops, having her shower, dress, start her day. But just as she thought this, Rosie came in with a piece of toast.

“Here,” Rosie said, and then she was on the bed, the toast in Annie’s mouth before she could finish saying no.

“Mrrph! Rosie, don’t do that!” The slice had butter and jam on it. It smeared against her mouth.

“Take a shower,” Rosie ordered. Her eyebrows were knit down, and her voice took on a no-nonsense tone. Annie was about to question it when she realized that Rosie was impersonating her, doing what she could to care for her older sister.

“Okay,” Annie said, taking another bite of toast. “Lemme finish this?”

Rosie glared at her and crossed her arms, thinking. “Mm. Okay. Make your bed first.”

Annie nearly choked on her toast, but she’d have to do what Rosie said.

Her shower was a long one, and changing into fresh clothes afterwards felt amazing. She was walking down the hall, intent on watching the rest of _Evangelion,_ when her sister hustled out of Annie’s room with a stack of anime taller than she was.

“Ro…what are you doing?”

Rosie let out an eek and dodged past Annie, rushing into her own room and dropping a DVD before she slammed her door. And unlike Annie’s bedroom, Rosie’s had a working lock.

“What the _hell_ , Ro?”

“You can’t watch more. I took your laptop and phone too.”

“WHY?”

A pause. Then, “You can’t do this again. Daddy said… Daddy said you always do this.” 

“Why did he tell you that? Ro?” Annie strained to hear.

“He said you were really bad.”

Annie stared at the door, listening to her sister try not to cry.

“And I,” Rosie went on, “…I don’t want you to leave.”

Annie leaned her head on the door. “Ro, why would I leave you? That’s—”

That’s what their mother did, inflicting that lasting pain on both of them. And Annie hadn’t known. Hadn’t known that she was doing the exact same to Rosie, all this time.

“Roro, I didn’t…I would _never,_ okay? I’m sorry. Here,” Annie said, picking up the copy of _Lain_ that Rosie had dropped. She forced it under the door. “You dropped this one.”

Annie waited, listening to Rosie shuffling around in the room. Finally, another DVD slid out.

_Ore Monogatari._

Annie blinked back tears. “Thanks.”

 

They’d ended up watching together, of course, and by the time Monday morning came, Rosie had already given back all of Annie’s stuff. Still, Annie didn’t listen to Mikasa’s voicemail. In fact, she put her phone on silent and hid it in a drawer. She had things to do, figuring out homework for all her classes. Except math class.

 _A project with Mikasa._ She’d have to talk to Mr. Smith about that, had been thinking about it all weekend. She still spent a lot of time alone on Sunday, but not enough to make her sister worry. Her sleep had been spotty Sunday night, thoughts of Mikasa sneak-attacking her each time she let her guard down.

This morning, Monday, the first step was to shower.

In the bathroom, Annie stripped off her clothes and adjusted the temperature on the faucet. When she stepped in, she emptied her head, letting it fill with hot water. _Let it burn_ , she thought.

Today’s mission was to survive. Tomorrow’s mission was to survive. She projected the rest of her week, the rest of the semester, the school year, all her time in Trost:

_Survive._

She was comforted by the thought of the bare minimum. _You don’t have to be happy. You don’t have to be good. You only have to be._

Shampoo. Conditioner. Soap to skin.

Doubts flowed in:

_You’re not that important. And you’re not the only one who needs help surviving._

She shut off the shower and pulled the curtain, wrapped herself in a towel, finally, truly, looked at herself, deciding.

_Just fake it._

After she dressed and loaded up her backpack, she stared down at her phone and considered her options. First period and last with Mikasa. The thought halted her breath. Panicked, she thought of the card she could play: Nurse Mike. He’d let her sit out of two classes. But then there was French with Hitch. Art with Jean…Why should Annie even go to school? Faking sick was easier. She wasn’t above dishonesty. She couldn’t face them. All the cheerleaders who had overheard, and the rumors they’d spread. Nurse Mike himself, right there as witness.

Still, she shoved her phone in her hoodie pocket and crammed Jean’s jacket into her backpack. She’d go. She wouldn’t like it, but she’d survive it along with everyone else. As for Mikasa, she’d just avoid her, even if she had to run.

 

First period. Maybe it was bad that two people who used silence so effectively were always together, because Nurse Mike barely looked up at her as she entered his office. She took it as his tacit “I won’t say anything,” and walked to the bed.

The linens were fresh, crisp, and white. She laid under them, inhaling their delicate scent and turning her back to the door. She fell asleep quickly, her last thought being that for once she deserved some rest.

She was stirred by school bells, but ignored them. Was half-roused by students coming in with real ailments, but lived through them. And she was fighting herself, deciding against second period, laying there with her heart in her throat, hoping Nurse Mike wouldn’t say anything. He didn’t, but sighed meaningfully when second period ended. She sat up, bangs falling into her face.

“I know,” she said.

He straightened some papers on his overflowing desk. “I don’t. What’s third period?”

“Art?”

“Then go. You can come back last period. Or when you need.”

“Like whenever? Seriously?”

He looked at her, not at all like he was kidding. “Yeah. Doesn’t your ankle still hurt?”

She frowned. If he was pitying her, she didn’t want this.

“Just go, kid.”

“Fine.”

Maybe pity had always been the wrong word. She doubted Nurse Mike wasted his time feeling “sorry” for her. He was concerned. Annie didn’t want that either, but it fit better.

She got to the art room slightly late. It seemed to be a “free day,” something Petra did to let them explore art. They could study from a collection of art books or draw whatever they wanted, as long as they were doing something. There were more than a few seats available—their emptiness a byproduct of students dropping the class—but Annie sat next to Jean and Marco.

“Here,” she said, handing Jean his jacket. “Sorry.”

“Oh. It’s…” he began.

She shook her head quickly. Annie was already feeling overstrained today. As she pulled out a small sketch pad, she saw Jean put the jacket on in her periphery. Exactly what she didn’t want. He’d reach into the pocket…

“What’s this?” He pulled out a $5 Annie had slipped in.

“Just take it.”

“Annie. Is this for the hot chocolate?”

She began sketching, the pad sitting in her lap.

“Hey, come on…” he said.

She kept sketching, guarding her drawing with her forearm. A rough outline took form beneath her hand. A figure, benign in its sketchiness and loose lines, sitting on the ground, arms leaned back, two legs—no, just one—stretched forward. A sweep of hair, a lowered head. Annie held her breath. Had she known she was drawing her from the start? Why now? Why when Jean was right there?

A swoop of fabric: Mikasa’s skirt. A tight torso: the sleeveless top, strong arms. Definition, anguish in the face. Annie froze, pencil in hand. She snatched the page from the sketchbook, crumpling it violently.

“Hey,” Jean said.

Annie gripped the paper in her fist and turned to him, afraid he’d ask her what was wrong. Afraid she’d have to tell him, or lie badly.

Jean tilted his head. “You didn’t give me enough.”

“What?”

“The hot chocolates cost three dollars each.”

“You…need another dollar?”

“Yep.”

Annie brightened. The paper she held dropped to the ground. “I don’t have any more cash on me. I’ll owe you one.”

“Pfff. I guess. But I expect interest.”

“Hm. Figures.”

Jean tapped his pencil against his chin. “Unless…”

“What?”

“Art club?”

“…How much interest are we talking?”

“A thousand percent.”

“Art club is Wednesday?”

“Yeah.”

Annie tapped her pencil against the pad. “Well. I guess I have no choice then.”

 

Art class was leagues better than she’d expected, but the lunchroom was still too much. She knew without trying, without even thinking about it as her feet took her back to the nurse’s office.

“You didn’t bring a lunch,” Nurse Mike said as she sat herself on the bed. He was eating his own at his desk.

“I’m not all that hungry.”

“I don’t want you going without food this year,” he said, not turning to face her. “You remember.”

She did. She hadn’t handled freshman year well, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to say she hadn’t handled it at all. That year, she never slept, and hardly ate. The school nurse had noticed, since she was around all the time, since she fainted once, in gym class, and he hadn’t let her forget the importance of caring for herself.

“But I’m really not hungry,” she said now.

A long pause.

Then, without turning from his desk, he lobbed something over his shoulder, managing to bean her on the forehead.

“Ow! What the hell?!” She picked up the banana that had landed in her lap.

“Eat something or die.”

“I don’t like bananas, and I don’t like getting hit in the forehead.”

He swiveled his chair toward her, grinning. “In the forehead? Good shot.”

Annie glared death at him, until she submitted by looking down to peel the banana. She took a bite. “Mikasa and I aren’t friends anymore, so…”

“Hm. But it doesn’t seem like she wanted it that way.”

“No?” Annie picked at the strands on the peel. “Then why did she do it?”

“Outside forces?”

“Who cares? It was her decision in the end.”

“I don’t know anything, but that Dreyse kid is kind of a punk. Manipulative.”

“Hitch? She’s not smart enough.”

“She came in here once for a strained ligament. Threatened to get me fired when I told her it was nothing serious.”

“What did you do?”

“Acted like I was worried we’d have to amputate. That shut her up.”

Annie nodded. “See? She’s not smart. And even if she was involved in this Mikasa thing, it’s not like Hitch pulled the trigger.”

“You have a bullet wound?”

“Shut up.” She was thinking. In a few periods it would be French class. French meant sitting with Hitch, and Annie knew she couldn’t hide from her forever.

The nurse sighed and made a show of getting back to work on his computer. “Children are so melodramatic…You know there’s a cure for that.”

Annie humored him. “What?”

“Potassium.”

She stared down the back of his head and bit off a piece of banana. There was no good way to eat a banana loudly, spitefully, but she tried.

“What else did you eat today? And what did you eat over the weekend?”

“…Toast or something?”

He looked over. “You’re almost done.”

She took another bite.

“I don’t like to see you so sad, kid. Like you’re killing yourself.”

She stopped chewing. “I’m not…” She swallowed. She didn’t look at him. “I’m surviving.”

“Ha. You can do better.”

She took her last bite. What else was there? Beyond surviving? Before dying?

“Okay,” she said. She tossed him the banana peel, and he dropped it in the garbage can by his desk.

“Do you have money?” he asked.

“Nah. Why?”

He stood and reached into his pocket, pulling out some cash. “Go to the cafeteria. Find some protein. Maybe something leafy too.”

She eyed him mistrustfully. “Alright.”

 

At the vending machine, Annie bought two Snickers and a bag of M&Ms. They were the peanut kind (for protein). And while she hadn’t found anything leafy, she knew she couldn’t face all the students in the cafeteria. Annie was sure Nurse Mike would be disappointed with her dietary choices, but she’d pay him back tomorrow.

When she entered his office, he was standing with his arms crossed, busy listening to the janitor.

“Your desk is worse than Erwin’s,” the janitor griped. “If it were up to me, I’d trash the whole thing and start over.”

“Well, it’s not up to you, Levi.”

Annie stood in the doorway. Their words were sassy, but there was an underlying tone that said they were arguing about something else. Then the nurse looked to her, and the janitor looked with him.

“You,” the janitor said to her, like he was accusing her of some crime. “I have a message from Erwin.”

“Am I…in trouble with Mr. Smith?” Annie asked.

He scowled. “You’re supposed to do your project with history.”

Annie looked up at Nurse Mike, who shrugged.

“History? Yeah, I mean it’s a history of math—”

“No. The girl. The really short one. Her name’s History or some weird shit. Do your project with her.”

“Historia?” she said. “Okay.”

She went to sit on the bed, mulling it over, but the janitor stayed rooted in the center of the office.

 “Is there something else you need from me?” she said.

“Yeah,” the janitor said. “Answer your fucking voicemail.”

Annie opened and closed her mouth. “How…I…That has nothing to... _WHAT?_ ”

He shook his head. “You might think it’s all none of my business. But it is.”

“There’s no way in hell it could be your business. Mikasa—”

“Has been whining about you all weekend. It’s driving me crazy.”

“I still don’t—”

“Listen. My niece would really appreciate if you stopped avoiding her.”

 Annie’s eyes widened. “Niece?”

The janitor rolled his eyes, eyes that, when Annie thought about it, were the same sharp, sleet gray as Mikasa’s. Their hair was the same jet tone, and above all, their bearing revealed the same strong, commanding presence.

“Yeah,” he said. “Just don’t tell anyone we’re related. She wouldn’t like that. If you don’t talk to her today,” he said, pointing at her, “I swear I’ll lose my shit.”

Her hand sunk into her hoodie pocket, clasping over her phone. “I…didn’t listen to her voicemail yet,” Annie admitted.

“That’s a crappy excuse.”

“It’s not an excuse! I just don’t _want_ to listen. I have nothing to say to her.”

“Bull fucking shit, kid. At least listen to it. I know you don’t owe me anything, but I’m sick of her crying about the shitty thing she did to you, asking me if she should text you, over and over. Like I’d know.”

“Are you done?” she asked him. “I’ll listen to the stupid message, okay?”

He sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m done. Seeyah, _Nurse_.”

Nurse Mike grunted and went to sit at his desk. The janitor left, banging the door shut.

“Did you know they were related?” she asked him.

“Yeah. Levi and Mikasa Ackerman. Not like it matters. I try not to interact with the short one.”

“She never told me…”

“Maybe she told you in your voicemail?”

She bristled. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“I’m gonna go for a walk. How long do voicemails take? 5 minutes? 10?”

Annie shook her head and went to sit down on the bed. “Dunno.”

He disappeared, and she was alone. Her cellphone still had a little red alert at the bottom. She tapped it, opened her voicemail, pressed play, and put the phone to her ear.

“Hey,” Mikasa’s voice said. “It’s…”

Annie pressed the phone harder. Mikasa’s voice came out a little grainy but clear enough.

“I just got back from the ER. My ankle, it’s, it’s whatever. Annie, I wanted to talk to you. After the game, but…you came over after I got _hurt_ and I was kinda surprised? I was…really bad. Before I fell I…”

A long pause.

“Annie, I had reasons to hurt you, but they were stupid reasons, and I never should have acted on them like that. I just hope you don’t hate me. Listen. It might be too hard to be friends right now, and I wouldn’t be a good friend to you anyway. You know that. And I don’t wanna say it’s Hitch who…No, it’s my fault. I’m sorry. You can call me back, or text, or—anything. Yell at me, do whatever you want ‘cause I deserve it. I’m really sorry. Just don’t…just don’t go quiet. I need to hear something. Please. See you Monday?”

The message cut off. Annie kept holding her phone to her ear. Waiting.

_Just don’t go quiet._

Annie didn’t know what to say. She fell back on the bed and opened up their text chat. The last thing there was Mikasa worrying over Friday night’s cheer routine. Then Annie reassuring her.

Annie’s eyes filled as she typed out her message and hit send.

Annie: Not good enough

It wasn’t silence. But it was what Mikasa wanted. It was something. It wasn’t yelling but it was cruel. It was punishment. Annie turned her face into the pillow. She knew what she was doing was wrong. She almost didn’t care.

Almost. She listened to the voicemail again, then once more for good measure. Mikasa had been at the hospital getting her ankle checked out, had called as soon as she was done. And what was this about Hitch? She had suspected on Friday, had known, that Hitch was involved in Mikasa breaking off their friendship. _Manipulative,_ Nurse Mike had said. Annie knew that Hitch liked getting her way by whatever means possible. One thing was for sure: Annie wasn’t about to waste time in the nurse’s office just thinking about it.

 

Annie arrived a minute late to French. Hannah saw her first, eyes widening before taking on the squint that was always accompanied by her stupid, mean smile. Mina was visibly startled and put her head down, a blush spreading on her face. Hitch looked at Annie for a second, raising her eyebrows, but otherwise maintained a blank expression as she moved her backpack from Annie’s spot. Mlle Nanaba went on speaking about an upcoming exam, and Annie sat down. Her throat became sore from holding her breath. She didn’t move to get out her notebook or a pen. She only clutched her fists together, watching her knuckles turn white.

Was this survival? Silence?

_Just don’t go quiet. I need to hear something._

Mlle Nanaba had stopped speaking. The partners turned to each other, another dialogue on the horizon. Annie turned to Hitch, sitting there, pretending to be bored.

“Well?” Hitch said. “Nous devons parler."

 _Yes, Hitch,_ Annie thought. _Let’s talk._

“What did you do? Friday,” Annie said.

“I’m sure you’re full of theories,” Hitch responded, tapping her pen on her desk.

“It didn’t work out for you, did it? Mikasa’s still in charge.”

Hitch looked to the ceiling and sighed. “Yeah. It was stupid to think she’d keep you and let go of her spot. I mean, it’s _you_ we’re talking about.”

“You made her choose between me and being captain. Guess your plan got fucked.”

Hitch tilted her head and smiled. “Yeah. It was a gamble, for sure. But it’s still in play. Her twisting her ankle wasn’t what I had in mind but…”

“Right?” Annie said, keeping her voice level as she tried to not sock her partner in the face. “You said it was a gamble? That’s an idea…Mlle Nanaba!” She raised her hand to flag down the teacher. For the first time today, she was sure of something.

"Oui, Annie?" the teacher said.

"Hitch...” Annie paused, though not from apprehension; she only had to form the French that would destroy her enemy. She dove in. “Hitch parle à peine le français. Je lui donne un coup de main. Elle recopie tous mes contrôles. Tous! Ça fait des années que ça se passe comme ça."

It was all out there. Their classmates had known that Hitch copied off of Annie for years, and Mlle Nanaba likely suspected, but no one had expected Annie to reveal the truth. The other girls whispered to each other. Mlle Nanaba’s eyes grew big, then she crossed her arms and set her sights on Hitch. "Est-ce que c'est vrai, Hitch?”

Annie smiled angelically and turned to her partner.

 _And that’s_ my _gamble._

“You didn’t…” Hitch said, eyes flitting from the teacher to Annie.

Mlle Nanaba began speaking in rapid French. “Hitch, c'est très sérieux. Si c'est vrai, vous pourriez vous faire envoyer toutes les deux…You don’t understand what I just said,” she ended, in English.

Hitch looked about to cry. Annie stood up. She was sure the teacher would explain to Hitch, in words she could understand, that both of them could be suspended. It didn’t matter to Annie. Time away from school was time away from school.

"Je dois sortir, pardon,” she said to Mlle Nanaba. Annie put on her backpack and ignored the look on the teacher’s face that said she wanted to kill her.

Annie felt some relief as she closed the door behind her. Still, there was a lot to do, and she’d just created a lot of trouble for herself in the long run. She pulled out her phone. No new messages from Mikasa.

Annie had been wrong about one thing. It wasn’t enough to survive. There was way too much to do, too much on the line:

 _Survive,_ she mused. _You’re not the only one. Think of Rosie, of your dad. No, go further. Think of Mr. Smith, of Nurse Mike, of Jean. All those people who worry, for some odd reason, about you._

She felt conviction take over. There was rage, a will. Main characters didn’t stand by. You couldn’t survive by simply existing. Annie knew.

She had to fight.

She’d confirmed it in French class. That being a nameless character was boring, even painful. What she’d done wasn’t good, but if she couldn’t be the hero in her own story, she could at least be the villain.

When she got to the first floor, she saw Nurse Mike walking down the hall, toward his office. She called out to him.

“Ditching French after all?” he asked.

“Nah. I did what I needed to do.”

“Okay, that’s vague and worrisome. But let’s go to my office. I have a task for you.”

“A task?”

“Mmhmm. You’ll understand when we get there.”

“Sure. Okay.”

When they reached the office, he went in first, pausing in the doorway and blocking her view of inside.

He moved out of her way slightly, and as she stepped in, he stepped around her, slipping outside the office. She turned to him, confused. “What do I have to do?” she asked.

“Reconcile,” he said, and pulled the door shut, leaving her alone in the room.

But she wasn’t alone. She knew someone else was there, had glimpsed her sitting on the bed’s edge, arms crossed, when Nurse Mike maneuvered out.

Reluctantly, Annie turned to face her.

“’Not good enough?’” Mikasa said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French Notes:  
>  _Hitch (to Annie): “Let’s talk.”_  
>  Mlle Nanaba (to Annie): Yes, Annie?  
> Annie to (Mlle N): Hitch…barely speaks French. I help her. She copies off my tests. All of them. We’ve been doing it for years  
> Mlle N (to Hitch): Is this true, Hitch?  
> Mlle N (to Hitch): Hitch, this is serious. If it’s true, it could mean suspension for both of you…  
> Annie (to Mlle N): I have to go. Sorry.
> 
> Another chapter with precious little Mikannie interaction :( But I hope you enjoyed the angst, the anime, the secret uncle, the destruction of Hitch, and the cliffhanger. Please hang in there.
> 
>  [Also, I’m a mod for **Mikannie Week,** so there’s gonna be a really fantastic influx of Mikannie creations starting Sunday December 17th! Check it out!](https://mikannieweek.tumblr.com/)


	9. Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're a liar."

“No,” Annie said, staring down at Mikasa’s legs. “Not good enough at all.” It was insensitive of her, she knew, to take pride in the brace on Mikasa’s ankle, in the fact that Mikasa wouldn’t get to play sports, to run or even walk properly, to go to cheer practice or her first competition.

Annie’s eyes trailed up the long legs that led to Mikasa’s lap, the bare, smooth arms crossed below her chest, up and up a graceful neck, a small pointed chin and a pouting mouth, a slender nose, all the way up to her angry, bitter eyes.

“So what are we supposed to do then?” Mikasa said harshly.

Annie burned inside. Here was this person forcing her to fight through life. Annie didn’t get any other choices, unless lying down was an option.

“What do we do?” Annie said. “Same thing as ever. Ignore each other like we’ve done for years.”

“But I don’t want to do that,” Mikasa said.

“Not everything is about what you want. You should learn that.” A surprise: Annie’s voice was tiny, and the tremor forming under her lip scared her. It didn’t fit. She tried to find anger. But running into Mikasa here, now—or into Mikasa’s ambush—had thrown her. “And…and don’t tell me this is all Hitch’s fault. I don’t wanna hear that, I…”

“Annie,” Mikasa said. She stared at Annie like there was something wrong with her. “Come here.”

Annie looked to the hand that beckoned her to the bed. It was an offer she couldn’t accept. Her silence, her wide-eyed frozen rabbit stare told Mikasa as much.

Mikasa sighed, looking down. “I’ve been doing cheer since sixth grade. It’s been a big part of my life, and I know that doesn’t make sense. Hitch, Hannah, some other girls, they’ve always been awful. I’m not close to them like…” She looked up at Annie.

“And you and I were only friends for like two weeks,” Annie said. There. There was another reserve of rage.

“No, no Annie!”

“Shut up, I can’t think. Hitch has…she’s gotten what she deserves. I made sure of it. But I deserve something better. Better than you or Hitch or all the fuckheads at this school.”

She saw Mikasa flinch at the accusation. “We’re all the same to you then,” she said coldly. “Just what is it that you want?”

“Well I don’t want _you!_ ” Annie said.

Mikasa drew back. “You don’t _want_ me?”

“Yeah and I don’t deserve you. I mean I can do better, right?”

“I think it’s quite possible we both can, Annie.”

“Well cry to your fucking uncle about it.”

“Stop it!” Mikasa said, throwing her hands up. “I tried to get close to you, but if this is all there is, way close up, then I’m done looking.”

“Perfect,” Annie said, backing up to the door. “I can be invisible again.”

She opened the door, but still Mikasa spoke. “You’re a liar.”

“What?” Annie turned.

“You pretend to like it, to be a loner, like it doesn’t bother you. You lie, Annie.”

“I’m done arguing,” Annie said. “Goodbye.” She slipped out the door.

She intended to leave the school, but luck brought her Nurse Mike. And Mlle Nanaba.

“Hey,” Nurse Mike said to Annie. “Send my regards to Dot Pixis.”

“Oh,” Annie said. He went into his office, and Annie’s eyes fell upon her visibly ticked off French teacher. Annie didn’t want to do this now. She wanted to close her eyes, probably would have laid back down on the bed if Mikasa weren’t sitting on it now. But it looked like Annie couldn’t put off her French problem ‘til tomorrow. Nurse Mike had said to say hello to Pixis, the vice principal.

“Let’s go, Annie,” Mlle Nanaba said curtly. She walked at a clipped pace toward the admin offices.

Annie fell into step with her. “So…”

“Between you and me,” Mlle Nanaba said, “I don’t know why you’d help her for so long.”

“It got her off my back for a few years,” Annie admitted while she shoved her hands into her hoodie pocket. “Mostly. And it gave me some insurance.”

“Why now?” her teacher asked.

“Pushed me too far.”

“Is that all I’m getting out of you?”

“I think so,” Annie said, apology in her voice.

As luck would have it, the head principal, Darius Zackley was in, and Annie could only hope that the eccentric but lenient Pixis was still around. Mlle Nanaba walked straight past the secretary’s desk and into the office where Zackley waited behind a large oak desk. Hitch sat in a chair, legs crossed at the ankle, one foot twitching angrily.

Annie sat in the chair next to her. Hitch didn’t look up. Mlle Nanaba closed the door, and Zackley cleared his throat.

“I understand you two have a history,” he began.

No one spoke, the silence fragile as glass.

“Tell him what you told me, Annie,” Mlle Nanaba said.

Annie shrugged, suddenly annoyed at having to describe all this to an audience. “Hitch n'est pas bonne en français. Elle copie tout ce que je fais.”

“Oh, come on,” Hitch muttered under her breath.

“Ms. Leonhardt,” the principal said, a hand to his greyed beard. “I don’t want a translator here.”

“She said Hitch is bad at French and she lets her copy everything,” Mlle Nanaba told him.

“More or less,” Annie said. She didn’t know the French for the phrase, otherwise she’d keep being a wiseass.

“You’ve been helping her cheat,” Zackley gathered.

“Since freshman year,” Annie said.

The door opened behind them, and in walked Vice Principal Pixis, Annie’s saving grace.

“Sorry I’m late,” the bald mustachioed man said.

 _I got lost on the path of life,_ Annie thought to herself.

Pixis went to stand next to Zackley. It was always amusing to see them together. Zackley: dour, ineffective. Pixis: cheery, possibly insane, and the true brains behind Trost High’s disciplinary system. Annie had taken to the bizarre man immediately, since her first infraction as a freshman. Pixis’s punishments weren’t cruel, but certainly unusual.

“That’s fine, Pixis,” Zackley said. “We were just discussing…three years’ worth of academic dishonesty."

“I see,” Pixis said. He looked at Annie who stared back impassively, then to Hitch. “I’ve never had the pleasure, young lady.”

“…Hitch Dreyse.”

“Could I venture a guess that you cheated off Ms. Leonhardt?” he asked.

“Why would you think that?!”

“Because it’s true,” Annie said. “I did it so you would leave me alone.” She turned to Pixis. “I gave her wrong answers a lot of the time. If that helps.” She sat back. The sooner they could punish her the better.

Annie knew Pixis would have laughed then if he could, but the merriment stayed in his eyes, and his words came out serious. “Leave you alone?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Annie said, looking to her classmate. And it didn’t. There was nothing Pixis or Zackley or any adult could do to solve Annie’s problems. This was her battle. She wouldn’t press it here.

 “You don’t care to go on?” Pixis asked.

Hitch raised her head to stare at Annie, eyes wide, almost pleading.

“No,” Annie said without taking her eyes off her. “It’s fine.”

It could help her in the future, not destroying Hitch completely.

“We need to know the details, girls,” Zackley said. “I’m sure Ms. Nanaba would appreciate the full truth.”

“I’m sorry,” Annie said to her teacher. “I don’t think it’ll make you feel better, but I never cheated myself.”

“I know,” she said and looked to Pixis. “I don’t want either of them in my class anymore. Neither of them should get AP credit.”

There it was. Annie didn’t feel the sinking feeling she thought she would.

“We can arrange that. In the meantime, we’ll give them detention time during their former French class,” Pixis said with a glance at Zackley. Zackley nodded.

They went on to discuss Hitch being stripped of any credit received in past French classes. Annie watched, with little satisfaction, Hitch losing what was left of her composure.

She held her head in her hands. “I studied. I did study. I’m just not that good I…You have to tell them, Annie!”

“She’s telling the truth. She sucks at French.”

“You fucking bitch.”

Annie blinked. “Okay.” She turned to Pixis. “Can I go now?”

“You stay,” Pixis said. “There’s another matter I need to discuss with you. Ms. Nanaba, if you could bring Mike Zacharius here.”

Mlle Nanaba nodded, then cast a final withering stare at Annie and Hitch before leaving.

Hitch fumed at Annie, eyes red from crying. “You’re going down.”

 _Down,_ Annie thought. _Just try and drag me to hell with you._

Annie rolled her eyes. “Okay, sure.”

Hitch stood and made her exit.

“That was fun,” Annie said to the two men in a flat voice.

Pixis restrained his smile. “You really hold your own, Annie.”

“Yeah, well…”

“We’ll get to the matter of Ms. Leonhardt’s shoddy attendance thus far?” Zackley said, opening the laptop on his desk. They started counting up the absences from the past two weeks.

After a while, Nurse Mike entered, nodding to the two men, then addressing Annie. “Heard you were talking _merde._ ”

Annie almost smiled. “I told you I did what I had to.”

The nurse sat in the chair next to her, a large man sitting next to a small girl. “You needed me?” he said to the others.

“We’re concerned that Annie is skipping out on class quite a bit,” Zackley said.

“My job is to make students feel better. Sometimes that requires leniency.”

 “Leniency,” Zackley said. “I can’t condone this. How does she feel when she finally attends her classes and finds she’s fallen behind?”

Nurse Mike shrugged. “She does homework in my office. It’s mostly the kids in her classes, not the material.”

Annie had to hand it to him: he looked perfectly at home, even as Zackley questioned his competence. What’s more, he was lying: Annie almost never did homework around him.

“She’s been through hell,” Pixis said. “But her grades get better each year.”

“Hmm.” Zackley fiddled with his laptop, presumably checking out Annie’s grades. He took off his glasses and sighed. “We need limits on how often she goes to the nurse’s office, Mike.”

“He already did that,” Annie said. “I’m not supposed to go more than two periods a day, and I can’t skip the same class three days in a row.”

“But today…” Zackley began.

“Today was a bad day, Darius,” Nurse Mike said.

Zackley sighed. “I’ll leave that detention hour up to you, Pixis. Ms. Leonhardt, I’m sorry you continue to get along badly with others. But you can’t allow yourself to be coerced into academic dishonesty, and you can’t be so routinely truant in the future.”

“Yeah, okay,” Annie said. “Sorry.”

He shook his head.

Annie shifted in her chair. “I can go now, right?”

Zackley looked at her. “You may.”

She and Nurse Mike exited together.

“That didn’t have to happen,” he said.

“I know,” she said guiltily. “I’m sorry I—”

“It’s fine. The Dreyse girl is gonna torture you now. You know that.”

Annie looked down and nodded. “I do. But you know I can handle it.”

“I do know that. Head home now, kid. We’re back to our regularly scheduled programming tomorrow. Two ditches only.”

“Yeah. Seeyah.”

 

 _Priorities,_ Annie thought as she walked home. _I’ll have to work hard in class, if I wanna get into a half-decent college. I’ll go to art club, maybe make friends. Mostly though, I’ll keep my head down. Like always._

Thoughts of Mikasa came to her. She found herself wondering if Mikasa’s ankle would heal in time for her first cheer competition. But she was in no state to actually care. It felt to her that Mikasa was getting what she deserved. She wouldn’t have Annie’s friendship, and she wouldn’t have her precious cheerleading.

Annie scuffed through the dead leaves at her feet. _Wouldn’t stop her from showing up at cheer practice to boss people around._ She imagined Hitch trying to wield her influence as co-captain, Mikasa sulking in the background.

She shoved her hands into her hoodie pocket, grinning at the ground as she thought of Hitch’s suffering. She nixed the guilty thoughts that Hitch was just a regular person, struggling like anyone else. Who could worry about other people when you had to worry about yourself first?

 

Tuesday. It was strange getting ready for class and seeing her French folder and spiral still in her backpack. She took them out and tossed them aside on her bedroom floor. She wouldn’t need them, supposing it was the end of her French career.

_C’est la vie, right?_

When Rosie and her dad were ready to go, they got into the car. Rosie insisted on listening to her _Shrek_ CD. Annie tuned out and thought about facing Mikasa again. She decided she’d go to math class and see what that brought. If things went well she’d go to 2nd period history, art class, lunch, English, science, and her French detention. That only left gym class, a huge question mark in Annie’s day. All she knew was that Shadis would force her to participate.

When Rosie hopped out of the car, Annie turned on the radio. NPR, her dad’s standby.

There were a tense few minutes, listening to the BBC report the news from London. Until Annie’s school came into sight. She was about to hop out without a word when she realized her dad was looking at her, about to say something. For some reason she was filled with dread. As if they’d have to have a heart to heart or whatever normal families had.

“Have a good day,” he said.

“Oh. Yeah…” Her hand closed over the door handle.

The problem was, he’d never said that before. Never thought to. Why was he trying so hard? Annie got out of the car, and her dad was already driving away when she realized the correct response would have been, “You too.”

So. First period. When she got to Mr. Smith’s, half the class was there. Mikasa sat at the front, and Annie walked past without incident. Connie and Sasha were by the windows, and Historia sat at the back, reading a book. It was the tiny ex-cheerleader Annie was headed for. When Annie sat next to her, Historia jumped slightly.

“Hey,” Annie said. “Sorry we’re partners.”

Historia stared for a second. “Oh. Right…” She closed her book.

“I mean, I’m sorry you got stuck with me. What was your topic proposal?”

“The Fibonacci Sequence.”

“Okay. Fill me in. I’ll try to keep up.”

Historia nodded and got out some papers. They talked business until Hitch and her gang walked in, and an icy silence descended on the class.

Everyone knew about Annie ratting Hitch out in French. Others—at least Hannah and Mina and by now Franz—knew about Hitch’s plans to become cheer captain. Hitch sat without looking back at Annie. Fine by her.

She was about to keep talking with Historia when she noticed her writing in a spiral and sliding it to Annie to read.

“A similar thing happened to me,” Historia had written.

Annie swallowed. So she had figured it out for herself. Historia Reiss: chased from the cheer team, ostracized by everyone, called a lesbo, called a slut, called much worse. As far as Annie knew, the whole cheer team had turned on her, and Mikasa led the squad from then on. Annie didn’t think Mikasa would engage in that sort of cruelty, but she couldn’t help what she wrote to Historia next.

“I know. Were they all like that to you?”

Historia hovered her pen over the note when she got it, then started writing just as the bell rang and Mr. Smith came in, closing the door and starting class.

“Not all of them,” Historia wrote back. “Mikasa, Mina, and Hitch never said anything bad about it. At least not to my face.”

 _Hitch?_ Annie thought, rereading. Historia seemed to take Annie’s confused face as a sign to write more.

“You won’t believe me, but Hitch has some principles. She never went after me or Ymir. She was my co-captain and said she didn’t care who I dated. I can’t really tell you the details, but Hitch wasn’t so bad.”

Annie stared at the back of Hitch’s head. Why did people have to have so many layers? Why was Hitch evil one day and semi-normal the next? Annie couldn’t figure it out from staring at the nape of her neck, so she and Historia kept writing covertly, while listening to Mr. Smith speak.

When their note-writing drifted off, Annie realized that Mr. Smith probably knew a lot about the Mikasa situation. If he was friends with the janitor, Mikasa’s uncle, then he’d have filled Mr. Smith in on all the details. Annie was barely able to think about anything else for the rest of class.

“Text me. About the project,” Annie said to Historia when class ended. She tossed a scrap of paper with her phone number onto the other girl’s desk. Then Annie stayed and watched the other students exit. First Mikasa without so much as a look back, then Historia, then Connie and Sasha, Hitch, Franz, and Hannah. That left Annie, the teacher, and Mina Carolina, who surprised Annie by walking up to her.

“Annie…” Mina began, staring at the ground. “I wanted to say…Um, I wanted you to know…I didn’t—I don’t agree with it.” Mina blushed, hands clasped nervously to her chest.

“Okay…” Annie said, waiting for more.

“Okay,” Mina said with a sudden, serious nod. She rushed away, out the door.

Well, that was weird. But Annie got a feeling for what Mina was trying to say. She didn’t agree with Hitch splitting her and Mikasa up. It was a nice thing to say, if totally useless. Mikasa was still sidelined. Annie was still alone.

It took her a moment to realize the teacher had probably overheard everything, but, tactful as he was, he was busy typing on his computer.

“Mr. Smith?” Annie said when she got to his desk.

“Hm?” He looked up, as if he hadn’t known she was there.

“You’re friends with Mikasa’s uncle, right?”

He stared at her for a moment, the words sinking in. “Oh. Yes, Levi and I are good friends.”

“Did he talk about…”

Mr. Smith shook his head, and Annie felt crestfallen. “Levi won’t shut up about it.”

“Oh,” Annie said. She really didn’t know what to ask, what she wanted to ask. “I think…I don’t know. Sorry.” She began to walk away, embarrassed.

“She feels terrible, Annie,” he said. “That’s what you wanted, right?”

Annie turned to him. “I don’t know if what I wanted and what I want now are the same.”

“Ah. Mood.”

“You’re too old to say mood, Mr. Smith.”

“But you’re so…pound sign relatable?”

“Hashtag No. I’m just gonna leave now, if that’s okay.”

“Annie, listen first. You don’t have to struggle so hard. A lot of things are easier to handle when you let them go.”

She couldn’t process it. People were too challenging, their moods and words fluctuating, layered with hidden meanings Annie had to claw out herself. And “let them go.” Such cliched, vague advice. Should she let go of what Mikasa did to her? She couldn’t just accept that, not so easily. It seemed against Annie’s nature to let go. Surviving and fighting. Both required serious effort. Movement.

“Uh-huh,” she finally said. “Thanks.”

A look of dismay crossed his face, thinking his words hadn’t impacted her. But they had, and Annie wondered to herself how to _try_ to go with the flow. It seemed at odds with his advice to force that mentality. Like trying to relax. How would you do that?

 

Annie got to art class and waved a dollar in Jean’s face.

“Almost even,” she said.

“Yeah.” He shoved the dollar in his pocket. “You’re still coming tomorrow?”

“Yep.” Art club might be fun. Even if she didn’t get along with the other members, she’d still be in her element creating something.

They fell into a silence after that, and Annie couldn’t tell if it was uncomfortable or not. Petra guided them through a drawing exercise, and they became busy enough that Annie almost forgot about it.

But near the end of class, Jean spoke up. “Annie,” he said, and the way he said it made her tense like he was going to ask her something important. She had a certain instinct for it by now, when people were trying to bother her.

“Yeah?” she said. She studied the drawing in front of her.

“Marco and I were wondering if you wanted to eat lunch with us?”

Annie looked at Marco, who didn’t meet her eye as he packed up.

“I mean it just seems like…” Jean said, “you won’t have anyone else to sit with?”

She could have gotten mad at that, but she forced herself to believe that this was a gesture of good faith. However uncomfortable it made her.

“Okay. Whatever,” she said.

Jean flashed a relieved smile. It made Annie feel like she’d made the right choice.

 

Sasha and Connie were already at the lunch table. It wouldn’t be so bad with them there. The two were easy going and goofy enough that maybe things wouldn’t be awkward. Annie could only hope that neither of them made light of her relationship with Jean.

“Annie’s sitting with us today,” Jean said.

The others nodded, accepting her presence immediately. It unnerved her a bit. Was it really this easy to make friends?

She glanced over at Hitch’s lunch table. It so happened that Hitch was looking in her direction.

“Are you going to eat that?” Sasha asked, and Annie realized she was talking about the Twinkie in Annie’s hand.

“Uh…yes?”

“Oh.” Sasha frowned. It was a wonder she was so skinny. Her lunch was a creamy pasta, a Hershey’s bar, cookies, and two chocolate milks. “Anyway,” she said, shoving some cookies in her mouth, “Good job yesterday.”

“With what?” Annie asked, but she already suspected.

“Taking out Hitch,” Connie said. “I swear she’s the most unpopular popular person here, if you know what I mean. Everyone’s ecstatic.”

“Really,” Annie said. She didn’t see it that way, but suddenly she was aware of a new way people had of looking at her. She was used to either being ignored or hated. Approval was something…different.

“She’s a dick,” Sasha said. “I can’t believe you helped her as long as you did.”

“Hitch is…not the nicest person I’ve ever met,” Marco said with a smile.

“There,” said Jean. “That’s the meanest thing Marco’s ever said.”

Marco and the others laughed. Their group seemed so easy. Annie tried to relax.

“You met Jean in art class?” Sasha asked.

“Yeah,” Jean answered for her. “Annie’s amazing…at art, I mean.”

Annie tried to ignore Jean’s compliment but felt herself blushing.

“Cute,” Sasha said. “Why don’t you ever call _me_ amazing, Connie?”

“I thought it was evident,” Connie said.

Smooth recovery.

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t point out the obvious,” Sasha said.

“You’re really something, then,” Connie said.

Sasha slapped him on the arm, and they started bickering in earnest, leaving the other three to their own devices.

“Annie,” Marco said. “Are you still doing your club?”

“Anime club? Not really. No one likes anime here.”

“I’ve only seen _Pokémon,_ ” Marco admitted.

“Yeah,” Jean said. “And _Dragon Ball Z_.”

“What about _Powerpuff Girls_?” Sasha asked through a mouthful of pasta. Apparently she was done arguing with her boyfriend for now.

“No, Sasha,” Connie said.

“Oh,” Sasha said. “We should all watch together sometime!”

Annie’s face reddened. “Sure,” she said. “We can do that if you really want to.”

She had to figure this out. Was anime not as taboo as she thought it was? Maybe the thing she thought she’d been further mocked for didn’t make her special. It hurt her stomach to think about. Because as much as the loneliness spurned her, she felt superior. As if she knew something they didn’t. Outcasts were fundamentally different, and it wasn’t the worst thing to be.

When lunch wrapped up, Annie sat there in a daze. There were now vague plans to go to Annie’s house some weekend to watch anime. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She was already thinking about diving into her anime collection to find something perfect. Annie couldn’t stop her mind from rushing. A Miyazaki movie would be good. But which one? Maybe Miyazaki was too obvious a choice. Before she knew it, Jean was standing, tapping her on the shoulder.

“Are you leaving?” he said, smiling down at her.

“Um.” She looked around. Everyone else was standing, balling up their lunch bags to throw away. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

She gathered her things and followed the others. Her new friends? Annie reflected on just how quickly her life had changed. It was unbelievable to her that something that had made people hate her now made them want to know her. _Where were you all before?_ she wondered.

 

Detention, set in a small classroom during the period that used to be her French class. No one was there, and Annie sat on a desk to await her punishment. The day outside was calm but cold, and Annie afforded herself a moment of peace. She didn’t even know which teacher would oversee them.

She didn’t know Mikasa’s uncle would walk in, wheeling a garbage can with its litany of cleaning supplies hanging in a basket on the side.

“If you wanna clean this room or something, Hitch and I have detention first, so…” As she said it she knew the truth.

He gave the can a shove and let it roll in. Annie put her hands up to stop it.

“I’m in charge of you both,” he told her.

Hitch appeared in the doorway, stopping short when she saw them there, eyes wary.

“Here’s the deal,” he said. “You’re cleaning together. And I mean cleaning. One room a day, top to bottom. Do a good job, and I’ll let you leave when you’re done.”

“We have to do your job?” Hitch asked.

“You won’t let us leave?” Annie said, already bored.

“Your job,” he said to Hitch (ignoring Annie), “is detail cleaning. From floor to ceiling. It has to sparkle,” he said, his eyes widening in faux-wonder at the last word.

“Fine,” Hitch said, but she started fiddling on her phone. Levi snatched it up.

“HEY,” Hitch said.

“Might as well take yours too,” Levi said to Annie.

Annie shrugged and handed it over. “Who am I gonna text?” she asked, leaving the unsaid words “your niece?” to hang in the air.

Levi gave back a hard, practiced stare he must have spent his whole life honing. Annie looked away, trying not to think of who those eyes reminded her of.

“Floor to ceiling,” Hitch said, looking upward. “I’ll take ceiling. No problem.”

“And what? Clean the fan and be done?” Annie said. “We’ll split it in half.” She turned to Levi, perched on the teacher’s desk, playing with his own phone.

He looked up after a moment. “What? You guys decide. It’s part of the deal that I force you to get along. Hop to it. Cooperate.”

“I’ll get the front part,” Hitch said. From the whiteboard to two rows in.”

Annie walked to the back. “So you don’t have to get the window side. And I’m getting way more desks than you.”

“Fine! God! Have whatever side you want.”

“Eh, this side’s fine.”

“Really, Annie? After all that?”

Annie shrugged. “Let’s finish this quickly, okay?”

Levi had left and come back with mop buckets, more rags, more mysterious powders and solutions.

“What do all these do?” Hitch said, taking a sniff of a bottle.

“Well quiet down and learn, kid. Basic hygiene 101,” Levi said, snatching the bottle from Hitch.

It took a while, and Annie was sure she wouldn’t remember most of this. “I feel like you could make meth with these,” she mumbled. “Couldn’t you get by with a couple products?”

“You could,” the janitor said. “But I buy these, because this is the way to do it right.”

“You’re spending money on this?” Hitch asked. “On…your salary?”

Levi looked out the window and said with a straight face, “Ah. Well you see I do it for love.”

Annie thought laughing unwise, so she got to work, and Hitch followed suit. The janitor disappeared.

The windows were high. Annie had to stand on a desk to reach high enough. After giving them a thorough scrubbing, she turned around to see Hitch sitting on the teacher’s desk, swinging her legs as she yawned at the ceiling.

“No,” Annie said. “No, no, no.”

“I’m done,” Hitch said.

“No, you’re not. The whiteboard’s not even erased.”

Hitch looked. “We have to do that too? Isn’t it the teacher’s job?”

“This is a detail cleaning. Find something.”

“But the thing is,” Hitch sighed out. “I don’t really _wanna_ work. Can’t we just talk?”

Annie dragged a mop bucket to the window wall, intent on cleaning her half of the floor. “Talk? You can talk, Hitch. But I won’t listen.” From here she would check periodically that Hitch was doing something other than nothing.

Annie heard Hitch’s shoes thumping, one two one two, lazily against the teacher’s desk. “I wanna talk about you and that boy,” Hitch said.

Annie pushed herself to keep mopping. No speeding up, no slowing down or freezing altogether. Her only tell was that she didn’t respond. And instead of Jean now, she thought of _him_ , back then.

“You sat together today, right? At lunch?” Hitch said airily. “And what was that Friday night? A date?”

“Stop it,” Annie muttered.

“Come one. Don’t you wanna tell me how hot it’s gotten between you and Bert?”

Annie looked up. She couldn’t give Hitch the satisfaction of a scowl. She looked at Hitch blankly, waiting.

“Oops,” Hitch said. “Bert was the last one.”

But Annie could tell Hitch was unsettled by her stare: the way Hitch shifted, the way Hitch, for once, couldn’t think of more to say.

“Yes,” Annie said. “Bertholdt Hoover was the last one. The one that made me a slut if I remember right. At least,” she said as she went back to mopping, “according to all of you freshman year. Just leave Jean out of this. And get to mopping your half, Hitch.”

Annie’s hands gripped the mop, and the sweep of water against the ground became her focus. She could pretend to be cool, unaffected, but it’d be a lie. She hated Bertholdt, Reiner, the cheerleaders, everyone whose mouths moved constantly, spreading words like they meant nothing, like they hurt no one.

But maybe hurt was the point. If gossip caused no pain, no one would bother to say that Annie gave Bertholdt a blowjob, or handjob, or fucked him, or whatever else in eighth grade, on their first, last date.

Annie heard Hitch hop off the desk, heard the mop bucket wheeling, the slop of the water. It didn’t matter to Annie, like it might to the janitor, that Annie would be stuck on a dry island in the center of a mopped room. She didn’t dare look at Hitch, even though she wanted to see whether she actually felt bad or if she had only wised up, into a temporary silence. At any rate, Annie was glad she’d inspired Hitch to work for once.

They met in the middle of the room, waiting for the floor to dry. Both sat on a desk, Hitch facing the whiteboard, Annie the windows.

“So are you gonna ruin my reputation?” Annie said. “Or Jean’s?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Think hard.”

The janitor came back. He gazed about suspiciously, rightfully distrustful of their cleaning ability.

“Well, I can see you’re best of friends now,” he said. “I was a little afraid you’d get each other’s blood all over the floor.” He toed at the water pooled at his feet. “You’ve exceeded my expectations. Go kill each other in gym class.”

 _Gym. When was the last time I was there? Friday? But when was the last time I_ wanted _to go?_

Annie didn’t have to think long on that.

_Friday. I wanted to see Mikasa_

She swallowed her anger. The bell rang. Passing period.

“One more thing,” Levi said. “Wheel the cleaning supplies back to the closet down the hall.”

Annie had to admire Levi then, but she kept it to herself and watched Hitch.

“No. No way,” Hitch said, but Annie was already grinning and pulling her by the hand, pushing a mop bucket in front of them.

“Let Hitch go by herself,” Levi said, stopping Annie. “Go on,” he said to Hitch, who pushed the mop bucket into the hall, keeping her head down.

Annie, standing there with Levi, knew she was in for it.

“You can’t treat people like shit after they treat you like shit. The world shouldn’t work like that. It does but it shouldn’t.”

Annie glanced away. “Yeah, got it…”

“Mikasa…Honestly, she’s not that strong,” he said softly. “She’s already been through enough, so fix things. Or try to and…just leave her alone.”

She was taken aback by his unguarded expression. Eyes that looked gentle and sad, seeing something in Mikasa that Annie couldn’t.

“I’ll talk to her,” she said at last.

Thoughts stormed Annie’s head. She hardly noticed the amused stares of students wondering why she was pushing a janitor’s trashcan. Hitch rushed by her, emptyhanded, from the closet.

 

Gym class. Annie resolved that she would talk to Mikasa, fix what could be fixed, no matter what. The locker room was the usual: girls talking, none of them to Annie. Mikasa sat on a bench, not getting changed.

 _Right. The boot,_ she thought. Mikasa would really resent a part of her body malfunctioning, preventing her from going at 100%. Annie went to change. Now didn’t seem like a good time to bother Mikasa; there were too many people, and Mikasa looked intensely sullen.

As Annie dressed, she looked around again. It didn’t seem like they were dividing up into teams. Everyone was wearing the purple of their shirts on the outside.

“What is this?” Annie said to the girl next to her.

“Huh? Oh, fighting unit. We’re meeting in the east gym.”

“Okay.”

This was new, a divergence from the regular lacrosse, football, basketball, whatever. Maybe Annie could crack some skulls.

When she got to the gym, there were piles of equipment: big blue cushioning pads.

“We’ll continue our unit on Tae Kwon Do,” Shadis said.

Annie glanced at Mikasa, sitting next to Shadis’s metal folding chair. Glum.

Shadis picked Mina to hold up one of the blue pads. It seemed to be a pad you could kick and punch without hurting the person who held it. Mina looped her arm through the strap on its back, looking nervous to be the recipient of Shadis’s attacks.

“Since _some_ of you weren’t here yesterday, I’ll go over safety again,” Shadis said, rapping on the pad with his fist. “Never lower the pad to below the chin. Pay attention.”

He looked at Annie. She looked back.

“We’ll start with roundhouse kicks. Right leg back. Raise the right leg, knee up. And kick.” His first kick was gentle and slow. He did a few more demonstrations, showing how to pivot the right foot while it was in the air, and how to rotate the planted foot. Then he started getting more aggressive, staggering the terrified Mina. His movements were fluid and swift. The kick was different from what Annie thought of as a roundhouse. It didn’t have the full spin of the body that she’d expected. And the kick went high, Shadis’s foot going above his head.

Annie found herself wanting to give it a try.

“Pick a partner,” Shadis said.

Annie’s heart thrummed, and her eyes went to Mikasa, who pulled in her knees and watched.

_Right. Guess it’d be a good idea to stay away ‘til the end of class._

Two dozen or so girls, half of them holding pads, waiting to be kicked. All lined in the room’s center. Annie stood at the end of the line that led down to where Mikasa sat with Shadis. Even better: Hitch, Hannah, and Mina were all down there, in a row holding pads. No one to bother her.

And for sure. For sure at the end of class Annie would go up to Mikasa, try to muster up an apology. If only to get Levi off her back, or the guilt that was so effectively tightening its grip on her.

Her first roundhouse kick was directed at her partner’s pad. She decided to kick without mercy. Shadis said five kicks. Her partner held up the pad, blocking most of her face and body. Annie pulled her right leg back into the stance that Shadis had shown them. Her first kick wasn’t great. She got confused about the midair pivot of the foot, losing strength and speed as she figured it out. Her next kick sent the girl stumbling.

 _Good,_ Annie thought, recognizing her as a cheerleader. _Fuck you._

With each successive kick, she gained in power, her leg stretching and striking higher. Then, Shadis told the attackers to step to the left.

“What?” Annie said.

“You rotate down,” her partner said. “Five kicks for each.”

Annie looked down the line, down to where Mikasa sat, and she swore she saw a glint in Mikasa’s eye, one that she’d get closer and closer to, kick after kick.

 _Doesn’t matter,_ Annie thought. _Keep kicking._

Most of the girls she kicked at were weak, falling back, grunting each time Annie’s roundhouses landed. Annie focused on trying to knock them down. The only problem was that they were ready for it. Expecting it. Annie didn’t want to think of what waited for her down the line, so she went on the offensive.

“Do you have to do it so hard?” Hannah said.

Hannah. The first of the terrible three.

“Yes!” Annie said, emphasizing the word with her last strike on the pad. She had the satisfaction of throwing Hannah two whole steps.

Next, Annie moved in line to see Mina cowering behind her pad.

“Please don’t do it too hard,” Mina said.

Annie thought for a moment. “Not gonna happen,” she told her, striking out and making Mina back up three paces. Sure, Mina had been a little nicer recently, but she was still kind of an asshole. What was it people said? When you see something bad happening and don’t do something about it, you’re on the side of evil? That’s how Annie thought of Mina now. A bystander participating in evil.

She showed her thoughts with force. Her kicks were aggressive and came fast. She was getting closer to Mikasa. Her kicks grew even more powerful. She was excited and nervous. She could hardly contain it.

The only one who stood in the way of Annie and Mikasa was Hitch, the last person Annie would fight before…before whatever would happen with Mikasa, when Shadis would make the attackers take the pads, and Annie would bend to speak to her ex-friend.

“Let’s get this over with,” Hitch said, affecting boredom.

“Let’s,” Annie agreed.

Hitch held up the pad so that Annie only saw her awful green eyes staring at her. Annie brought her fists up, slowly drawing her right leg back into position, not taking her eye off Hitch. She shifted her weight onto her left foot, brought her right knee up and swung, extending her leg and hitting the pad. Hitch didn’t waver. Her stance was wide, securing her against Annie’s onslaught. Annie vowed to do better each time. It would be a pleasure to knock Hitch on her ass.

Annie re-centered herself. She’d do better. Her next strike was stronger, but still Hitch didn’t budge.

 _Hitch,_ she thought. _You’re the only one in the way. Move._

Annie breathed slowly, in through the nose and out through the mouth. She set her right foot back again, tightening her fists as she held them in front of her face. She rocked her weight slightly, feeling the tension in her muscles as she geared up to kick. She willed her leg to move faster than ever, raising her knee and snapping her leg into the pad. Hitch grunted but did not move.

Two kicks left. Annie was running out of time. She squared up and brought her leg flying. A part of her suddenly wondered if she could really talk with Mikasa while Hitch was right next to them. Damn! She’d gotten distracted and wasted the kick. She had only one last chance.

Hitch looked pleased and crouched lower, steadying herself. Annie glowered at her. The only thing she wanted was to wipe that cocky grin off of the face of the earth. If only for a second. She moved her foot back, arms in position, eyes closed. Breathe. Her eyes opened. She shifted her weight forward, her leg a blur as it moved toward Hitch’s face.

Annie couldn’t say what happened.

Maybe it was because she’d had her eyes shut.

Maybe it was because she was distracted by thoughts of Mikasa.

Maybe it was because she hated Hitch.

Whatever it was, it didn’t stop her from swinging her leg at Hitch’s unprotected, stupid face. In slow motion, Annie watched her foot arc into Hitch’s nose. There was a loud crack. Annie had done it. The smile had fallen from Hitch’s face, and Hitch fell with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha.


	10. Proof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I wanna be on your team_

Hitch, on her knees, held both hands to her nose, blood already seeping between her fingers. She looked up, eyes full of rage, hair hanging in her face. Annie opened her mouth, closed it, looked to whoever else she could: Mikasa, sitting next to them with a stunned expression.

Shadis knelt before Hitch. “Are you okay?”

Hitch registered that others were watching, then pulled her hands from her nose, trembling palms slicked in blood. The same blood ran down her face, into her mouth, down her chin.

“Annie,” Hitch breathed.

Annie shook her head quickly. She took a step back. Then another. She didn’t want this. Any of this. Before she knew it she was outside the gym, running to the locker room. She dressed quickly and grabbed her stuff. There was no way she’d stick around for the consequences. It was an accident. Would Hitch believe her? Would anyone?

“What are you doing here?” Annie said as she picked up her backpack. She didn’t need to look to figure out who’d followed her here.

“I could ask you the same question,” Mikasa said. She leaned herself on a wall of lockers, taking the weight off her injured ankle.

“I can’t stick around.”

“You should apologize.”

“Won’t make a difference,” Annie said.

“It’s the least you can do.”

Annie knew she was right. Still, she was reluctant.

“Hitch won’t want to see me now,” she said. “And what do you care?”

“I just…I do. You and I were friends.”

Annie realized that this was the conversation she’d been waiting for.

“We were, weren’t we? But that was before you abandoned me.”

“I was backed into a corner. I regret it, Annie. So much.” Mikasa’s desperation made Annie ball her hands into fists at her sides. She knew what Mikasa was saying was true, that she was buried in a guilt both her uncle and Mr. Smith had remarked on.

“I don’t have anyone,” Annie said. She felt herself shaking and closed her eyes tight.

“Annie…”

Mikasa moved closer.

“I wanna be on your team,” Mikasa said. “I’ll be captain. I’ll be captain like I said, and I’ll pick you every time. I’m on your side, Annie, so…you only have to _let_ me be there. So look over. I’m here, and I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care what you are, Mikasa. Right now…you’re nothing to me.” Annie had wanted to take this opportunity to listen, to let the pain out and let Mikasa in. But her kneejerk reaction was to slam the door.

_What the fuck is wrong with you?_

She looked up at Mikasa, thinking she’d see that question etched into her eyes, or she’d just come out and say it, words Annie wouldn’t know how to answer. Instead, Annie saw hurt, confusion, but no anger. She knew she couldn’t take the words back, and hurried past Mikasa.

“Annie,” Mikasa said softly. Annie turned back. Mikasa still leaned, and spoke to where Annie had stood. “Just so you know, you’ll always be something to me.”

“You’re gonna have to prove it then,” Annie said. As she left, she realized it wasn’t the same leaving she’d practiced in the past. She would take Mikasa’s advice with her. Some of it, anyway.

 

Nearly all the cheerleaders from gym class were in the nurse’s office, with the exception of Mikasa. Hitch sat in a chair by the nurse’s desk. Some poor boy was on the bed already, the smell of puke radiating from the trashcan in his lap.

Hannah stood next to Mina, who sat with Hitch, holding her hand while Hitch held a cluster of bloody paper towels to her face.

“Where’s the nurse?” Annie said. The whole group turned to her, a hive mind of murderous intent. The boy on the bed bent and retched into his can.

The door opened behind Annie, forcing her to step closer to the girls.

“Hi, what the fuck?” Nurse Mike said.

“I killed Hitch in honorable combat,” Annie told him. She didn’t know how much longer she could pretend to be bored and unaffected. She worried her lip, ready to jump from her skin.

“Ah,” the nurse said. “At it again.”

Everyone moved aside, Mina getting up to let Nurse Mike sit with his patient.

“Still bleeding?” he asked her.

Hitch nodded.

“Pinch your nostrils shut. Someone get me some ice, and we’ll leave it at that for a while.”

Mina sprinted for the freezer as Hitch pinched her nose, saying, nasally, “You seriously can’t do anything?”

“I seriously doubt you’ll lose your nose,” he said. “Feels broken?”

Hitch flared. “Does it _feel_ _broken?_ What kind of question…”

Annie stared at the blood that had dried and stiffened at the collar of Hitch’s purple gym shirt. It really was a remarkable amount of blood, and Annie hadn’t even done it on purpose. Really. She didn’t know how she felt about it. The horror and fleeing and shock were draining from her. The grim reality of another fight in Zackley’s office loomed.

“It’s a good question!” Nurse Mike said cheerily, taking the ice pack from Mina.

The eyes of the other girls would dash at Annie, then dart off. It was Hannah who finally broached the subject of her standing there like an idiot.

“Are you here to apologize or something?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Annie said. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t do it on purpose. So…yeah.”

“I don’t believe you,” Hitch answered.

“Okay. Then think about it when you look at your crooked nose for the rest of your life.”

Hitch lowered her head. “You’re a fucking nightmare. If you’re not suspended right away I’ll fight until you are.”

“Yeah, the girl who can’t do her French homework is gonna effect some real change.”

Hitch closed her eyes and took in a pained breath as she pressed the ice pack harder to her injury.

And then her lip trembled. And Annie guessed she was trying to tamp her anger. But after that quiver a single tear fell, mingling with some of the blood that hadn’t been cleared from Hitch’s chin.

“What did…” Annie began.

“Annie,” Nurse Mike said without turning from Hitch. “Maybe make yourself useful and don’t be here.” He took the ice pack. Hitch ducked her head, and Annie decided she didn’t have anything more to see.

_Weird,_ Annie thought as she exited. It seemed like she’d accidentally pushed Hitch into the same place Annie had been crammed into so many times before. Mostly, it hadn’t felt all that good to hurt her back.

The last bell of the school day rang. She passed crowds of students, luxuriating in that three PM feeling. No more bells, no more lectures, or hiding the fact that they were texting all day. Annie’s day wasn’t over yet. She headed to the scene of her crime.

The gym was almost empty, but the storage door in the corner was open.

“Mr…. Shadis?” Annie called. She walked up, peering in to see him organizing the pads that had taken a beating all day.

“Need something? Leonhardt?”

This wouldn’t be easy. He hated her guts.

“Yeah. Hitch is gonna say I kicked her on purpose so…”

He squared a stack of pads, then looked at her. “A material witness. Why should I help you? Why not your friend?”

“I know you don’t owe me anything,” she said, shuffling her feet and sidestepping his question about Mikasa. “But after this I’ll owe you, so…I’ll do whatever.”

Shadis stared her down. It was hard to read the specifics of his thoughts, but in general Annie assumed he was thinking unpleasant thoughts about one of his worst students.

“I need to visit Pixis as it is,” he said at last.

Annie held her breath as he locked up the storage room and walked off, expecting her to follow him to the admin offices.

Blessedly, Zackley seemed to have left early. Pixis sat in his own office, one much smaller, with a desk less sleek, but more inviting than Zackley’s.

Pixis called Nurse Mike to send Hitch over. The vice principal and Shadis chatted for several minutes, seeming like old friends totally at ease with each other. Annie sat there waiting, nervous and awkward. Hitch appeared several minutes later, nose swathed in a bandage. Her reddened eyes fell on Annie, then she sat next to Annie, again, Shadis standing next to the desk with arms crossed.

The silence was a lead weight, yet didn’t feel as heavy as Pixis saying, “Well, Ms. Leonhardt?”

“It was an accident and I’m sorry. I’m not dumb enough to kick Hitch in the face on purpose. Just dumb enough to make a mistake.”

Hitch stared at Pixis’s desk, her lack of protest unbearable. She pursed her lips and shook her head.

Then, it was Shadis’s turn. “Leonhardt is dumb enough,” he said. “She closed her eyes and opened them the moment before she kicked Dreyse. She didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

Pixis tapped his fingers on the desk. “It’s hard to believe, isn’t it, Ms. Dreyse?”

Hitch slowly raised her head. “I don’t believe it.” Her tongue was so unsharpened, her so voice low and soft, that Annie had trouble believing it was her speaking. “She should be suspended,” Hitch finished, heart not in it.

“Leonhardt should be punished,” Shadis said, turning to her. “That was a fine kick you delivered. I always knew you were holding back your abilities. That’s why you’ll give nothing but your best in my class from now on. Or I’ll fail you.”

Annie’s brow creased. It seemed like blackmail. But giving an effort in gym class would improve her GPA. Suspension would not.

“What’ll it be, Ms. Leonhardt?” Pixis said.

“I’ll do better,” she said.

“No,” Shadis said. “You doing better would be you giving 50%. The deal is that you give 100%. All the time.”

Annie looked at Hitch. Rather than seeming morose, her eyes held interest.

“Alright,” Annie said. “I’ll go along with it.”

 

In math class the next day, Mikasa was there writing in her spiral. As Annie walked by, as Mikasa didn’t look up, she reminisced on the notes they’d swapped. How many pages in Mikasa’s spiral had torn gaps, the notes and their words haunting the pages with their absence?

Didn’t matter. Annie sat with Historia now, who closed a huge fantasy book with a dragon grinning on the cover.

“Did you read the links?” Historia said.

“Yeah.” They’d texted last night, Annie beefing up on the history of the Fibonacci Sequence. 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13… Numbers that painted strange patterns in nautilus shells, pinecones, galaxies, and artichokes.

“Sorry about Ymir taking my phone,” Historia said sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” Annie said, remembering when “Historia” suddenly asked for nudes. “I knew it wasn’t you.”

Historia’s face was flushed. She shook her head. “Sometimes I don’t know about her…”

“Sounds like that’s part of the allure,” Annie said.

Historia seemed to think seriously on this for a moment. “Yes. Must be.” Then Historia lowered her voice. “Ymir heard something bad about you.”

“Bad?”

The bell rang, Mr. Smith not wasting a second on getting them started. Their projects were due next Friday, October 5th. Historia wrote something quick on her spiral, passed it over.

“You and Jean,” it said.

Annie sat there, frigid. Three words bore into her. She couldn’t even bear to look at Hitch. She wrote back to Historia, “Tell me everything.”

 

Skipping art class would only give Jean time to start hating Annie. She had to say her piece.

Jean was already there, sitting in front of his easel. And from the way he absently turned his pencil in his hand, from the way he hadn’t drawn anything or acknowledged her presence, she knew that he’d already heard.

“We can’t hang out anymore,” Annie said.

He looked up at her, cocking his head. “I mean, we totally can. It doesn’t matter what they say.”

“Yes it does!”

“It’s not true.”

“People don’t care about truth,” she said.

“But I’ll just tell them what I think is true.”

“…What’s that?”

“That you don’t like me.”

“Oh,” she said. “That’s…”

“It’s true,” he said. “So you’re still coming to art club. And you’re sitting with us at lunch.”

Annie’s heart warmed. “And what if I don’t?” she challenged.

“Then you’ll be alone,” he said with a shrug and began to draw. “And that’s boring.”

Annie inhaled. “Fine. If I have no choice.”

Jean smirked at his easel. “Exactly.”

 

“You really did it?” Connie enthused. “Did you hear it crack?”

“Her nose?” Annie said. “Maybe a little.”

“It’s gonna be crooked, I bet,” Sasha said, mouth full of sandwich.

“She’d kill me if it was.”

“Nah. Hitch’d never survive in prison,” Connie said.

“I’d make her my bitch in a heartbeat,” Sasha replied.

It seemed like their conversations naturally turned to the bizarre. Not that Annie minded. Jean was right: this was less boring than being alone.

After a good twenty minutes of imagining Trost as a prison, Sasha turned to Annie. “So when are we having anime club?”

“Oh. I dunno.” It still seemed too weird to her. Plus it was something only she and Mikasa had shared. It felt wrong.

Mikasa didn’t sit with the cheerleaders anymore. She and Armin and Eren had their own little table by the area where students went to buy the pizza and pasta that warmed sickeningly under heat lamps.

“Maybe another time,” Annie said at last.

 

The janitor seemed less angry, less overbearing today. Annie had to wonder if Mikasa was feeling better. It seemed to be his niece’s welfare that affected his mood most. It was also possible that he was gratified by Hitch’s nose being busted. Whatever the reason, he seemed relaxed, and sent them off to gym class with no problem after their “half-assed so-called attempt at cleaning.”

Gym class. Gym class would be a problem. First there was the specter of Mikasa who, despite the janitor’s good mood, seemed avoidant and uncheery. Though she perked up when Annie volunteered to help demonstrate a reverse punch with Shadis.

Actually, everyone perked up. Annie raising her hand was a rare sight at Trost High, in any subject. But in gym class she always faded away. ‘Til now. Shadis took it in stride. First he had her hold the punching pad, modeling the punch, and then he made her do it.

Her punch came flying, making him not quite stumble, but no one could deny that his whole body leaned in surprise.

“Good!” he said.

Annie measured the silence of her classmates as awe.

And praise from Shadis? It was like their class had entered the Twilight Zone. Mikasa sat on the sidelines with her head cocked, as if a new perspective would solve the problem of why Annie was suddenly going above, then beyond.

If this had to be Annie’s life now—behaving in gym class, getting an A—then it would be, no questions asked.

Except. How did Mikasa see her now? Was Annie impressive in her eyes? Or was she just revealed as lazy, all those years of dragging her feet through class revealed in full?

“Again, Leonhardt,” Shadis said, and Annie attacked.

 

She couldn’t admit she was happy as she walked to the locker room, as she changed, as she noticed that the girls looked at her differently but, still, did not speak to her. Annie reasoned it was too much to ask. She’d been a cold, distant person for years. Perhaps there was no sorting out now who had made Annie that way—her or them—but she would try to bear the responsibility and the shame that came with it.

All that was left of today was trying out the art club. With apprehension in her belly she entered the art studio. She was several minutes late, by design, and could see why Jean wanted her there so badly: it had very few members. There was Petra, Jean, Marco, and, surprisingly, Ymir. They were gathered at the work table in the back, sitting on stools and readying their supplies.

“Yo,” Jean said with a smile.

“Hey. Ymir, I didn’t know you knew what extracurricular activities were.”

Ymir shrugged and grinned. “I’ve been encouraged to find out.” She then waved to someone behind Annie. Historia. Whenever Annie saw them together, Historia was already beaming. Whenever they were apart—and the gossip swirled—Historia looked frightened. And sad.

Now Ymir slung her arm across Historia’s shoulders and pulled her into a loose hug. Their height difference—with Historia being practically the shortest girl in school and Ymir one of the tallest—was adorable. Historia smiled up at her. Annie looked to Jean. He didn’t seem disturbed by their affection.

“Used to it,” he mouthed at her, and Annie stifled a laugh. She went to sit next to Ymir, across from Jean and Marco.

Ten minutes passed as they waited for more members. When none came, Petra spoke. “Looks like we should continue our flyers project.” She filled Annie in. Everyone was designing a poster to attract new members. They could draw whatever they wanted, but Ymir was already pushing boundaries.

“None of my ideas are getting approved,” she said with a yawn.

“Draw inanimate objects,” Historia said.

“Inanimate objects. Like dildoes?”

“No. Ymir. Not that.”

Jean showed Annie an uneasy smile. She shrugged and stared past him, trying hard to find something to draw.

Petra came back with armloads of stuff, for inspiration. She had a bowl of lemons, bananas, and apples. She had a lacy white parasol under one arm and three pairs of sunglasses on her head. She had a vase full of white lilies and a snow globe balanced precariously on the crook of her elbow. Petra dropped everything unceremoniously in the center of their table, then began arranging the objects, almost forgetting to put down the sunglasses.

Historia seemed to have an eye for the vase of lilies and began to sketch them immediately. Not seeing anything she liked, Annie absent-mindedly sketched the snow globe. Jean and Marco were each working on something from the week before, and Ymir started scribbling as well. Petra gave the parasol a twirl and set it, open, on another work table. She sat there and began to draw it.

Annie frowned. All she wanted to draw was anime shit. Like a gundam or a magical girl. _Or both,_ she thought suddenly, pulling out her phone. She found reference images on Google, starting with the gundam. She shaped its boxy exterior, one of its arms extended upward. It took a long time, but she managed to get the briefest of outlines. She shifted her focus to the magical girl aspect, giving the robot dressy frills and long, flowing hair. In the outstretched arm, she drew a moon scepter. She imagined the colors: violent pink and a more subdued purple.

That was enough for today, though art club would go on for several more minutes. She couldn’t bring herself to focus more on the mecha. Instead, she sat there—sketchpad balanced on her lap and the table’s edge—and drew an actual magical girl. She had two scepters that slashed out long, becoming twin swords. Her expression and bearing were severe, tortured. The sweep of a ribbon ran across her neck. When Annie stopped her hand, she saw the ribbon was a scarf. She saw the straight, short-cropped hair she’d colored with a dark graphite, and she knew with a sinking feeling that the scarf would be red.

“Not again,” Annie couldn’t stop herself from muttering. Then she froze. Had she forgotten who was sitting next to her?

“Nice,” Ymir said.

Annie closed the sketchbook. “It’s nothing.”

“What? She was hot.”

Everyone’s attention fell on them. Annie told Ymir, with the violent force of her eyes, to shut up. Ymir smirked at her and fell into a merciful silence.

 “Okay, guys,” Petra said. “I think it’s time to share our work. Then we’re done for the day.”

Ymir went first. Hers was a sketch of a surprisingly well-rendered foreshortened hand reaching out of the page. It seemed to be reaching for pills that floated in the air.

“I call it, ‘Dealer,’” Ymir said.

“Not so sure we should be aiming to promote drug use, Ymir,” Petra said. “But keep the hand.”

“Hm,” Ymir said. “I’ll consider it.”

Jean showed his own work, a drawing of a tiger growling. Annie had seen him looking at a reference on his phone. It was pretty incredible how good he was at drawing what he saw.

“Very good, Jean,” Petra said.

“I’m afraid I’ll ruin it when I try to color it,” Jean said. “And I don’t know what to use.”

“I’ll help with that,” Petra said. “Next week.”

“Mine’s bad,” Marco said.

Petra tilted her head. “I’m sure it’s not…”

“Nah,” Jean said. “It’s not great.”

Marco laughed, seemingly unoffended. “Move on,” he said.

Historia’s work was a simple, delicate drawing of the lilies.

“I think it needs to be something more than flowers,” Historia said timidly.

Petra held her fist to her chin, staring deeply at Historia’s paper. “I think a drawing is always more than flowers, if you get what I mean.”

“Okay,” Historia said, and Annie could see that she didn’t get it at all. Annie couldn’t say she did either. Sometimes things were things and nothing more. The same could be said for people. Her thoughts were cut short as all the attention turned to Annie’s work.

“Wow,” Petra said, studying Annie’s mecha. “That’s something amazing you’ve got there.”

Annie only nodded and shifted uncomfortably, not sure how to take the praise. She had hidden the scarfed magical girl from any more prying eyes.

“Dude,” Ymir said. “That’s awesome.” The others nodded in agreement.

“Thanks,” Annie finally thought to say. It could only be a good thing that Ymir was distracted from earlier.

“Like I said, I’ll talk to all of you about coloring next week,” Petra said. “It’s an exciting process. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

Petra went about storing the props in the already crowded closet at the back of the room.

“How do you think of something like that, Annie?” Jean asked as they exited.

Annie shrugged. “I think of anime all the time. Isn’t it only natural that I draw it?”

“You really like it,” Jean said. “Maybe you can show me sometime.”

“Show you anime?”

Jean seemed to blush and turned away. “…I mean us. The lunch table… I know you don’t…”

Annie nodded and stared forward. “I guess,” she said. She felt her own face heating up. She didn’t know why, but she began to think of Mikasa, how badly she’d wanted to share more anime with her. But that time was past, cut short in its prime. Annie hated Mikasa now. _I hate her now,_ she thought, schooling herself in her own emotions. The word hate hung around her like a noose. It was almost hard to breathe.

“What’s wrong?” Jean said, stopping.

“Nothing,” she said, walking faster, leaving him behind.

He came after her at a quick pace. “Come on, Annie. You’re being weird.”

“It’s nothing, Jean,” she said. “Leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry,” she heard him say from behind.

_Why am I so mean_? she wondered once more. She couldn’t sort out if she had feelings for Jean. Not when Mikasa was so overwhelmingly on her mind. Walking home, she pulled out her phone. There was one new text waiting for her.

Mikasa Ackerman: You were amazing today

 

About a week passed with Annie not knowing how to answer.

She didn’t know why talking to Mikasa felt like she had a knife in her gut. She wanted to show that she felt nothing, and she showed in her actions that, as far as she was concerned, Mikasa did not exist.

In math class Annie was okay.

In art class she excelled.

In gym class she was amazing.

The other girls were almost warming up to her. She sensed some bitterness that she’d failed them so many years, making their teams lose. What did that matter? She had been shuffled around from team to team, meaning she always let _some_ team win. It dawned on her that the point of sports was to have fun. To do your best and keep trying.

_Foreign words: keep trying,_ Annie thought as she delivered an uppercut to the dummy set up in the gym. The thing—basically the fake fleshy head and torso of a man on a metal stand—wobbled upon impact.

“I think she broke it,” a girl behind her whispered.

Annie stiffened. Until another girl replied, “Yeah. Bad as fuck.”

A first for Annie. Her skin prickled at the compliment. She went to the back of the line, but not before noticing that Mikasa’s eyes were on her.

Annie stood in back, observing. Mikasa didn’t seem interested in the other girls’ punches. But when Annie was at the front of the line again, she sensed Mikasa’s acute focus. And if Annie wasn’t mistaken, there was no animosity. Only childlike curiosity in those deep grey eyes.

It screwed Annie up, her next uppercut glancing off the dummy’s chin.

_Fuck._

She went to the back of the line, head down.

 

“Why do you keep getting home so late?” Rosie said to her one evening.

Annie was laid back on the couch, trying to watch a shitty anime. Rosie had taken the opportunity to sit on her sister’s stomach. She thought about it. After school, she just didn’t go straight home anymore. She’d run into her lunchmates at their lockers, might stick around a bit. She wasn’t as eager to get out of Trost High as she once was.

“Well,” Annie said, “I do have a life you know.”

“I didn’t know that.” Rosie adjusted herself, causing Annie some discomfort.

“Okay, well ouch. Also you’re literally hurting me. Too heavy.”

Rosie responded by laying down, belly to belly with Annie. She reached out and took off Annie’s glasses, putting them on herself.

“Hey, don’t,” Annie said. “You’ll go blind.”

Rosie looked ridiculous, the glasses too big for her tiny head. She squinted through Annie’s strong prescription.

“Maybe your eyes are so bad because you wear these all the time.”

“That makes zero sense.”

“But you just told me they’d make me blind. Won’t they blind you?”

Ah, the logic of children.

“No, they help me see, because my eyes suck.”

Rosie put the glasses back on Annie’s face. Upside down.

“You never explained,” Rosie said.

“Explained what?” She fixed her glasses, paused the anime.

“Why you’re late getting home a bunch. You said you have a life?”

“Sure do, buckaroo. Last week I kept getting called into the principal’s office. Right after school.”

“What did you do?”

She had Rosie’s rapt attention now.

“I killed a man,” Annie whispered.

Rosie opened her mouth. The shock lasted half a second, ‘til she scrunched up her face as she realized the lie. “Shut up.”

Annie laughed and sat up, hugging her sister. “Nah. I just…kept getting into trouble with Hitch.”

“The scary girl.”

“She’s not scary. She’s just mean.” Annie hadn’t given Rosie all the details. For example, the whole political fiasco of Hitch trying to usurp Mikasa’s cheer throne was something that Rosie wouldn’t quite get. Or maybe she would. But Annie felt better not talking about it.

“Mikasa is still her friend?” Rosie lamented.

“Not really. I kinda doubt they ever were.”

“You two were good. Good friends.”

Annie sighed. “Yeah, I guess we were.”

 

Time had passed without meaning. Rather than Annie moving through time, she sat still and the days shifted for her. There was more art club, more texting with Historia about their math project, more quality time cleaning with Hitch, and more gym class. But when Annie entered the locker room, Thursday, she saw an old sight: Mikasa, stripping off her shirt, revealing a lime green bra Annie pretended she didn’t remember. Then she pulled on her gym shirt, fixed her hair, and froze upon seeing Annie, planted in the way of a bunch of girls behind her.

Annie forced herself to step forward, to her locker across the room. Forced herself to undress, dress, begin to walk to the gym where she, and Mikasa, would participate. Because Mikasa wore no boot on her ankle. She was fine, now.

_All better,_ Annie thought. It felt weird. As Mikasa had dressed, Annie noticed her smile, her relief. Like that night on the football field was all undone with the healing of an ankle. But it still went on and on for Annie. She conceded that Mikasa still remembered, still regretted. Though, was she still trying to prove it? Annie had seen no such proof. Not yet.

Throughout the past week, Shadis kept Annie and Hitch apart. Fine by both of them. But today, Shadis made a huge mistake.

“We’ll begin with a demo,” he said. “Ackerman! Leonhardt! Step up.”

Two dozen girls sucked in their breath. Annie and Mikasa stood, on opposite ends of the pack. Annie couldn’t say if Mikasa stared at her then, since her own eyes were pinned to the ground. In front of everyone, they stood between Shadis as he explained what they’d be demonstrating.

“You’ve learned several punches and kicks. But they’re useless if you don’t know how to respond to them in a fight. Leonhardt. Attack Ackerman.”

Annie looked from him to her to the other girls in the class. While he and Mikasa looked unperturbed, everyone else went wide-eyed.

“Huh?” Annie said.

“She’s ready,” Shadis said, indicating Mikasa, who had ducked into a fighting stance.

“Just…do it?” Annie said.

“And don’t hold back,” he said.

Annie only had to look at the glint in Mikasa’s eye to know that she was fine with it. More than fine with it, she was eager.

So Annie mimicked Mikasa’s stance and lunged forward with the first thing she had learned: a roundhouse kick.

Mikasa’s arm cut into the air, a forearm blocking Annie’s leg. Easily. Then she stepped close, swinging her other fist at Annie’s unprotected middle.

_Whoa._

Her instinct was to stumble backwards, but Mikasa’s fist was already there, though she’d stopped it a half-inch from Annie’s body. Now Annie knew: Mikasa wasn’t out to hurt her, but Annie’s task was to even lay one finger on her opponent.

The room took on a silence that only happens when everyone in it is holding their breath. Mikasa stepped back, reassuming her position. Again, Annie mirrored.

A front kick, a sidekick, a knife hand strike. Nothing could break Mikasa. On instinct, Annie began a barrage of the moves she’d learned only a week ago.

“As you can see,” Shadis said as Mikasa parried blow after blow, “Ackerman knows very well how to defend herself.”

Annie’s breath grew ragged. She only wanted to land a single punch. She only wanted to hurt her.

She did the only thing she could think of then.

She gave up.

Annie folded her arms and approached Mikasa who seemed surprised.

Then, Annie swung her right leg out, a cross-armed roundhouse kick that no one could see coming.

Except, apparently, Mikasa Ackerman, who wasted no time in crouching, slipping an arm under Annie’s, grasping, turning, and somehow lifting Annie over her shoulder to throw her flat on her back. In a matter of about half a second.

Annie’s eyes were dazed by the fluorescent lights above. It hadn’t exactly hurt to be 180-ed to the ground, or maybe that was sheer shock. She closed her eyes as Mikasa began to speak above her.

“Sorry. That was _ippon senage_. Judo. Not exactly a fair move in a Tae Kwon Do match, but then again, your move wasn’t _exactly_ regulation, was it?”

Under the cover of the class’s laughter, Annie let out a groan.

“Shadis was right,” Mikasa went on. Annie could feel her voice, reigning down triumphant, right above her. “You should never underestimate your opponent, Annie. Not even when they come at you like you did, so obviously pretending to have given u—"

Annie’s legs closed in on Mikasa’s, one laid behind Mikasa’s ankles, the other sweeping into the fronts of her knees. Mikasa fell onto her butt, a stunned little expression painted on her face.

“What were you saying?” Annie said and stood. “Something about underestimating me? Asshole.”

She walked away, having had enough of gym class. She really should have ditched today.

 

Friday. Annie’s hands were clammy as she and Historia did their Fibonacci sequence presentation in front of Mr. Smith and the rest of the class. She wasn’t good at public speaking, barely got through private speaking, but she stood up there and gestured stiffly at their PowerPoint, voice a little robotic and a little too fast, until her part was done.

Then Historia began to speak, and Annie saw why she’d requested to speak after Annie, why she’d requested, in vain, to be the last pairing to go: Historia was a terrified little mouse. She spoke like she’d been hit in the gut, her eyes stayed glued to her notecards, and when Mr. Smith asked her to speak up, Annie saw her tremble.

Historia’s voice rose, just barely, shriller instead of stronger, the whole class straining to hear, though the message was delivered so painfully that Annie would just as soon ignore the situation entirely.

There was only one way to fix this. Annie gently took the notecards from Historia’s shaky hands and began to speak on her behalf.

“And Adolf Zeising’s misinformed but influential 1855 book…”

The class fell into relief. Annie went on reading, casting the occasional glance up at her classmates, at Mr. Smith whose head was tilted curiously. He’d even stopped taking his copious notes on the presentation. When Annie was almost done, she was startled by Historia snatching the notes back. Historia breathed in and in an efficient, tight voice completed the last several sentences.

“Thank you,” Historia said to the whole class, casting an angry glance at Annie while everyone clapped politely.

They sat down together, in back, as Hitch and Mina got their presentation ready.

“You really didn’t have to do that,” Historia whispered.

Annie knew it to mean, “You _really shouldn’t have_.”

“Yeah,” she apologized. “I know.”

“Well. It’s done,” Historia said and folded her arms on her desk, propping her chin up.

Hitch and Mina did an okay job with a boring topic. Hannah and Franz would probably get a low A. Even Connie and Sasha seemed prepared. Mikasa was the last to present.

“The Fermi Paradox,” Mikasa said, commanding in a way that made the room lean into her, a spark in her voice as she described the unusual silence of the universe surrounding Earth. If Annie had never known her, she’d still know just how important this topic was to Mikasa.

She only faltered at the end, voice growing unsteady as she said, “Maybe this data…tells us no one is out there. Maybe it’s just us.”

The words left Annie unsettled, especially when Mikasa’s eyes landed on her.

“Maybe there’s no way to prove these things, and we just have to keep existing anyway, at the risk of being alone,” Mikasa said. “Thank you.”

The class clapped despite the odd note her presentation had ended on. Without a doubt, Mikasa would get the best grade. Annie’s hands remained in her lap. She stared at them, and they gave no answers as to why she felt so unnerved.

She left the classroom with Historia, who got swept off her feet by Ymir.

“You were my favorite!” Ymir said.

“Thanks…” Historia’s feet hung a good foot above the ground. “You didn’t have to ditch class…again,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” Ymir said happily.

“…Thank you.”

Annie wondered what it would be like, to have someone on her side like that, and watched as Mikasa walked by.

 

Annie sat at her new lunch table, surrounded by people who would consider her a friend. She’d learned a lot about the four of them. Jean acted kinda harsh, while at the same time pretending to be chill. Really, he was a nice dork on the inside. Marco was an open book, the classic friendly guy always ready with a warm smile and advice. Connie and Sasha had grown up, somewhat, since she’d known them in grade school.

Right now, the two were speaking almost exclusively in memes. It was hard, but not impossible, for their lunchmates to follow along.

“I CAST THEE OUT! YEET!” Sasha declared when Connie insulted the “here come dat boi” meme.

“I’m already yote…” he sighed tragically.

This incited a tongue in cheek philosophical debate. Do we now exist in a state of unyeet? Until we have been yoten? Is everything under God yotable? Do the yeeted ever return? Will the yeet ever cease?

“I don’t caaaare,” Jean said.

“It is interesting to follow the linguistic properties of yeet,” Marco said.

“NEEERD!” Connie and Sasha said in unison.

“Aw come on,” Marco said good-naturedly.

“Yeet yeet yeet yeet!” the duo chanted, trying to get Jean and Annie involved.

“No thanks,” Annie said. She glanced, against her will, at Mikasa’s table. Mikasa and her two best friends seemed deep in conversation, heads leaned in. Then, horrifyingly, they all looked to Annie.

It was over in a second, maybe less, but left Annie reeling. The three had glanced, in unison, then startled. Annie herself remained in a state of staring shock, ‘til she got some sense back and turned back to her friends’ conversation.

So they’d been talking, so seriously, about her.

“What’s up, Annie?” Jean said.

“Sorry. I got distracted.”

“You guys still aren’t okay,” he said, nodded his head in Mikasa’s direction.

“Yeah. It just feels like…something should happen? That something has to give?”

She didn’t know how much Jean knew. She was aware the general fact had spread about Mikasa publicly renouncing her. Cheerleaders’ mouths moved awfully fast around here.

Jean considered her questions. “Right. It’s not like you can avoid each other forever. I’m an outsider to this, but you don’t want to avoid her, right?”

Annie inhaled. “I want everything to be like before. Easy.”

“You think she wants the same?”

“I guess…”

“She made a big mistake, doing you like that.”

“I don’t think I’m someone people hold onto.” The admission slipped out, and Annie became aware of the silence at their table. Jean, Sasha, Connie, Marco, staring or making a point of not staring.

“Sorry,” Annie said, standing and wrapping up the remains of her lunch.

Then she was tackled.

“I’ll never yeet you!” Sasha said, arms around Annie in the most crushing embrace she’d ever felt. The others laughed. And far from being embarrassed, Annie was touched, and laughed with them.

 

The last detention of the week. ‘Til next week. And the week after that and that and that. Annie and Hitch honed their cleaning instruments expertly. Not that Levi was impressed. Though he did seem more relaxed today.

“Same old, same old,” he said as he took their cellphones and left the room. “Get it done.”

They commenced cleaning, or Annie did. Hitch kept checking the clock, comparing it to her watch, kept scuffing her little black shoes on the floor, impatient.

“Waiting for me to kick your ass in gym?” Annie asked, leaning on her mop.

“No. I won’t be there.”

“Hm?”

“Cheer competition’s today. I’ll be rallying the team since Mikasa hasn’t been able to do anything. She doesn’t even have the routine memorized.”

“She won’t be performing?”

“No way. She’s hardly healed up. She’ll just be there. Pretending.”

_Mikasa really got screwed over here. Same as me,_ Annie pondered.

“Oh…Okay,” Annie said. “Guess this is your big break, huh?”

Hitch hummed in response, getting back to work.

“So an ankle injury’s a lot worse for a cheerleader than a nose injury.”

Hitch didn’t take the bait, and detention went by with Annie trying not to notice Hitch’s obvious pleasure.

Levi came back in, grinning. “All done?”

The girls looked at him reproachfully.

“Yeah?” Hitch said.

“Great,” Levi said. “Your phones.”

He handed them off and went to sit on the teacher’s desk.

“What the fuck…” Hitch muttered, shaking her head at whatever she saw on her phone.

Annie checked hers, not really expecting anything. But there was a text from Mikasa.

Mikasa Ackerman: Meet me in the nurse’s office

Annie couldn’t figure out why she’d want—

“Annie,” Hitch said, perplexed. “Mikasa just quit cheer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ippon senage](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sf8ZsL1_p9Y&feature=youtu.be&t=29)


	11. After That Brief, Blue Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Come at me. Annie.”  
> “Try to hit you again?”  
> “Yeah. Like I’m your worst enemy. Like you have to kill me.”  
> “In what world…”  
> Mikasa turned and sauntered off. “Not even gonna try?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slight change will be made to chapter 1: Mention of the Ancient Magus Bride will be changed to Puella Magi Madoka Magica, since the former anime did not exist during Annie's freshman year ;p

Mikasa Ackerman: Meet me in the nurse’s office

What surprised Annie was that she’d, deep down, prayed for this. Would have been crushed if this thing she didn’t dare hope for didn’t happen.

But it did.

 _Of course Mikasa should quit cheer. Of course she should choose me_ , she thought as she rushed out the door, Hitch calling after her, the janitor telling Hitch she got what she wanted, didn’t she?

 _She wants me. Why wouldn’t she?_ It was a deep, neglected line of thought for Annie. The idea she was worthy of something like love, that she had some value others could see, that she could see it herself.

Still, knowing Mikasa, quitting cheer was a big _fucking_ deal. As Annie rushed down the stairs, dread made itself known. Mikasa’s expectations of Annie had to be high. Could she live up to them?

She shoved the worry away, her feet carrying her onward.

She allowed herself to be happy and broke into a sprint.

Had Mikasa not texted her the location, Annie still would have rushed to the nurse’s office, thrown open the door to see Mikasa stand from the bed, and jumped into Mikasa’s arms, truly jumped, to be lifted, to be held.

Mikasa sighed into Annie’s neck. Annie’s arms were wrapped tight around Mikasa, but she felt like she was floating.

“You didn’t have to do it. Not like that,” Annie said, out of breath from running.

“Yes. I did.”

Annie’s feet touched the ground, but she planted her eyes on Mikasa’s collarbone, arms circling her waist gently. She never wanted to leave this warm place she’d found in Mikasa.

“I mean,” Annie said, “you could have quit a week ago. Didn’t have to be such a drama queen, quitting the day of.”

A pause.

“I had to think about it.”

“I know.” Annie sniffed. “Do you thing you made the right choice?”

Mikasa backed away, studying her. “It got you back. Didn’t it?”

“I…” At a loss for words she looked down, then laughed. “Yes.”

“That’s the pro that matters most.”

“What about the cons?”

“Hardly any,” Mikasa answered.

“Hitch is gonna hate you.”

“Then nothing’s changed.”

“Don’t pretend it’s so simple,” Annie said. Suddenly she felt the gravity of Mikasa’s choice. Years of her life, since junior high, poured into this pursuit. Mikasa had been a cheerleader forever. Now it was all gone.

“Fine,” Mikasa said. “It might have been the hardest choice I ever made. Happy?”

“I…”

“Then I’m happy too.” Mikasa gave a small but heartfelt smile, the sincerity of which made Annie blush.

“Stop it,” Annie said with a laugh.

“Hmmm. Sure seems like neither of you are very sick,” Nurse Mike said, his chair creaking back.

Mikasa and Annie backed away from each other, frankly embarrassed by a moment that wasn’t quite shared alone.

“We should go to gym,” Mikasa said.

“Ah. I guess.”

“Come on. You’re doing well in gym now. Shadis might even start to like you.”

Annie had to laugh at that. “Does he even like you, Mikasa?”

They headed out, Mikasa lapsing into silence before saying, “I don’t know if he’s capable.”

“But I need you to know I’m not doing well of my own free will. I’ve been blackmailed. Heinously.”

“Figures,” Mikasa said.

Annie looked down at her feet and smiled. Things were back to normal. They were better than normal. When weighing her life before befriending Mikasa, it was clear what “normal” she preferred. Plus, after that brief, blue interlude where she’d lost her, Annie had come to be grateful for Mikasa.

“What?” Mikasa said, nudging Annie out of her thoughts.

“We get to hurt each other in gym again, right?”

Mikasa took the bait. “You think you can hurt me? Maybe using one of your little tricks, Annie.”

“Hmm…a conflict of interest,” Annie said to herself.

“Huh?”

“Just…if you taught me how to fight, I might be able to beat you one day.”

Mikasa grinned hugely. “You wanna learn?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

“It won’t be easy.”

They entered the empty locker room, the others already in the gym.

“I never said I wanted an easy time,” Annie replied. She opened her locker and took out her uniform.

“Alright, you’ve asked for it,” Mikasa called from the other side of the room. Her voice was teasing.

Annie just shook her head and got dressed. When she turned to Mikasa, she was openly staring at Annie.

“What?”

“Wanna move in with me?”

“HUH?”

Mikasa chuckled. “Move your locker next to mine. This one’s empty.”

Annie balked. “Oh. Yeah, okay.” She grabbed up her stuff and carried it to Mikasa.

“This one,” Mikasa said. A locker to the left of Mikasa’s, on the row second from the top.

“Nah,” Annie said. “I want the one above yours.”

“Above? But you’re…”

Annie looked her dead in the eye, saying, “Being friends with me means timing your ‘Annie is short’ jokes very carefully, or not trying them at all.”

“Can’t handle it?” Mikasa said.

“Would rather not have to.” She lifted her day clothes up, above her head, to get it into the small locker above (superior to) Mikasa’s. Her backpack she put into the long locker next to it, shared with Mikasa’s backpack.

“Come on,” Annie said, walking past.

Mikasa followed her, slinging an arm around Annie’s shoulder and squeezing.

Annie jumped. “What’s this for?”

Mikasa’s arm dropped. “A thank you, maybe.”

Annie nodded at her, wide-eyed and confused. “You’re welcome?”

Mikasa just laughed.

 

“I shouldn’t be here,” Mikasa said almost to herself as they entered the gym.

“Where’s every—” Then Annie remembered: there were a ton of cheerleaders in this class, but they’d all be on the bus to their tournament by now.

“No. You should be here,” Annie corrected. She folded her arms and stood in the doorway. “You should.”

Mikasa gave a small nod, unsure.

“You know how I quit?”

“What do you mean?” Annie asked.

“How I quit cheer. It was kinda shitty.”

“What? You just told them and they told Hitch, right?”

“…I sent a group text?”

“Fucking shit- oh my God you…” Annie tried to wrap her mind around it but could only say, “A GROUP TEXT?”

“Yeah. I figure I don’t really owe them a thing. Some of them are alright but…I’m done with them.”

“BAMF. But you know you still have to go to school with them for, like, almost two semesters?”

“Ah. I’ll deal with it after Hitch loses them their first tournament.” A sudden flash of a smile, waving away Annie’s concern. Annie had never seen her act so carefree, even if it was faked. After all, this was Mikasa Ackerman, someone who didn’t take her reputation lightly.

Because of the lack of students, Shadis explained that today was a free day to practice what they had learned. Apparently this was their last day of the fighting unit. Annie felt like she’d hardly begun.

“Only two weeks?” Annie said. “Doesn’t seem like enough to learn anything.”

“It’s not,” Mikasa said. “But it’s a miracle I convinced Shadis to have the unit at all. This cuts into the ping pong unit,” Mikasa said with a roll of her eyes. She went and picked up a protective pad.

“This was your idea?”

“Of course.”

“Well. It’s gotta have more real-life applications than ping pong, I’ll give you that,” Annie said.

“We’re gonna have to make the most of today.”

Annie agreed.  Though ping pong wouldn’t be too bad. If she got to be partnered with Mikasa.

“I’ll teach you something really good!” Mikasa said with an enthusiasm that reached even Annie.

“Okay,” Annie said. “Give it to me.”

Mikasa shoved the pad into Annie’s hands and showed her a combination kick and punch.

“It’s a switch kick with a jab,” she explained. “You have to kick high, near my head. I’ll protect most of my face with the pad. When you’re fighting in this style, you keep your hands high up. Like this.” She put her fists up high, near her cheeks and bounced lightly on her feet.

“Also,” she went on. “I’ve been watching your stance this whole time, and you’re not gonna get away with not bending your knees anymore.”

“Oh. What…style is this anyway?” Annie asked.

“Muay Thai,” Mikasa said. “Like boxing. From Thailand.”

“Oh. But you’re not Thai.”

Mikasa shook her head. “But I like it. Same with how you’re not Japanese and bingewatch tentacle hentai.”

Instead of getting flustered, Annie fought back. “Hey. Tentacle hentai is universally enjoyed. It’s for everyone.”

“Even the aliens?”

“ _Especially_ the aliens.” She gave Mikasa the pad and assumed the stance she’d been taught.

“So. Your uncle taught you?”

“…Yeah. He was an amateur fighter when he was young.”

“Cool.”

“Eh, not really.”

“Oh.” Annie raised her fists high to imitate Mikasa’s form. “Like this?”

“Yeah.” Mikasa got next to her and demonstrated a switch kick immediately followed by a jab. Annie tried to keep up.

“Good,” Mikasa said. “Faster though.” Mikasa picked up the pad while Annie practiced. “Faster,” she said again. Her stern manner told Annie she was totally unimpressed by her student’s utter lack of speed.

It frustrated Annie. She was going as fast as she could. What more did Mikasa want?

Mikasa held the pad up to her face. “On here now.”

Annie got into her stance and quickly switched the placement of her feet, then kicked. Focusing on her kick like that, her jab was like a weak afterthought. Mikasa noticed.

“Come on! Again.”

Annie did it again. And again. And again. She grew frustrated that she could never upset Mikasa’s footing. All she wanted was to see her stumble from the power of her kick.

With that in mind, Annie pounced.

“Wow, Annie,” Mikasa laughed behind the pad. “You almost got me.”

“Aaaah!” Annie threw her hands up and walked a few paces away then came back. Mikasa continued laughing at her.

“You’re good for a beginner, Annie. Too bad we’re doing ping pong next week…Hey.”

“Hey what?”

“Come at me. Annie.”

“Try to hit you again?”

“Yeah. Like I’m your worst enemy. Like you have to kill me.”

“In what world…”

Mikasa turned and sauntered off. “Not even gonna try?”

“Fine. You asked for it.” Annie walked up and grabbed Mikasa on the right shoulder. Ready, Mikasa clamped her opposite hand on Annie’s and brought her right elbow up, spun so that Annie’s whole arm extended while her torso was pushed down. At this disadvantage, it was easy for Mikasa to strengthen her grip and lightly bring her knee to Annie’s face.

“Got you,” she said.

Annie huffed as Mikasa released her. “No fair. Humans shouldn’t be paired up against beasts.”

Mikasa spread her hands and paced back a few steps. “Is that how you feel? Then I’ll give you some space. But you still have to dodge this.”

Mikasa was on her in a second, a fist aimed at her face. Annie leaned heavily to her left, but Mikasa came in fast, right leg sliding into Annie’s, arms locking around her neck. In an instant, Annie was falling, Mikasa’s weight overpowering her. They both hit the ground, Annie’s neck held down by Mikasa’s…leg?

“What the shit?”

Mikasa’s calf pinned Annie, her other leg wedged somewhere under Annie’s back, effectively keeping Annie there as much as she struggled.

“Escape,” Mikasa said simply.

“You’re…crazy.” The pressure of Mikasa’s leg made it hard to breathe. Annie made a mental note to herself: Mikasa does _not_ like being called a beast.

“Try.”

“I don’t know how, asshat,” she wheezed.

Mikasa only tightened her hold. “But don’t you want to get out of this…very compromising position?”

“ACKERMAN!” Shadis bellowed.

“Uh oh,” Mikasa said, removing her legs to let Annie sit up and gasp for breath.

“What are you doing?” Shadis demanded.

“Teaching?” Mikasa said.

Annie looked at her, aware that her embarrassment was feigned.

Shadis shook his head. “Stick to what I taught.”

He turned away, Mikasa giving Annie a devilish grin.

“I’m gonna kill you,” Annie whispered.

Mikasa smiled all the wider. “How?”

 

At the end of class, they went back to the locker room.

“Hey,” Mikasa said. “You wanna come over to my house?”

“You gonna beat me up if I don’t?”

“Yeah, but you’ll come willingly.”

Annie glared at her.

“For the pleasure of my company!” Mikasa explained. “Plus there’s something I wanted to ask.”

Annie tilted her head, but Mikasa gave no indication that she was going to let her know what was happening.

“We’ll get a ride from my uncle.”

“Okay.”

Mikasa kept up the air of mystery, neatly sidestepping Annie’s questions with questions of her own.

“Are you available on weekends?” she asked.

Annie didn’t have to think. “All the time.”

Mikasa nodded. “Do you like to get up early?”

“I don’t even like to get up.”

“Hm.”

“What are all these questions anyway?”

“Where do you think my uncle is right now?”

“I dunno.” They’d been looking for several minutes. “Second floor? Maybe Mr. Smith will know?”

They kept looking for Levi, a task that led them fruitlessly from the halls to classrooms to closets and bathrooms. Eventually, they ran into Jean.

“Hey,” he said. “You guys are…”

Mikasa shrugged. Annie knew that word would get out quickly, what Mikasa had done.

Jean pointed at Annie. “When’s anime club?”

“Um…I dunno.”

“She’s free tomorrow,” Mikasa chipped in.

“Your place?” Jean said.

“Sure,” Annie said, looking pointedly at Mikasa. “Seven.”

Mikasa was incredibly pleased with herself as they walked away. “I’ve been dying to ask.”

“No. Plus there’s gonna be a bunch of people coming with him. You’re coming too, since you signed me up for this.”

“No Jean for Annie? I thought…”

“Nah. That’s old news.”

“Oh.” Mikasa smiled and faced forward, a hop in her step. “Okay.”

 

Levi proved to be with Mr. Smith, raising an eyebrow when Mikasa and Annie walked in.

“Are we…okay?” he said.

Annie looked to Mikasa, who glared at him. “Fine,” she said. “Annie’s coming by for dinner. Drive us?”

Levi’s brow creased. “To _our_ house?”

“Annie’s my friend,” Mikasa said flatly.

Levi shrugged. “Sure. Okay.”

 

Levi’s car was loud and freezing. Either the heater took forever to work or didn’t work at all. Annie sat alone in the backseat. For whatever reason, Mikasa took the front passenger seat without explanation and turned to talk to Annie.

“Do you think you can become a morning person?”

“Do you…want me to be?” Annie asked. She looked up to see Levi studying her in the rearview mirror.

Mikasa righted herself and hummed. Annie sat back, defeated by Mikasa’s refusal to explain herself.

The Ackerman residence was maybe a mile from Annie’s house. She remembered when she’d expected that Mikasa lived on the rich side of town. But as they pulled into the driveway, she saw that Mikasa wasn’t well off in the slightest. If anything, the tiny white house was smaller than Annie’s. Sure it was wide, but it didn’t look deep, and it was a single story, a far cry from the estate Annie had imagined.

Plus, did Mikasa live with only her uncle? On what had to be a meager custodian’s salary?

Levi got out of the car first, leaving the girls alone.

Mikasa turned to Annie again with a searching expression. “Not what you expected?”

Annie tried to be casual. “It’s more like my house than anything…”

“Come on.” Mikasa got out quickly, forcing Annie to chase after her, up the driveway and inside.

A living room with an old brown couch facing a small tv, the entire space dim with the small windows failing to let in enough light. Mikasa hung a right, leading Annie down a narrow hall.

“My room,” Mikasa said, opening a door. The space was half the size of Annie’s but impeccably clean. The walls were white and bare. Everything was well lit, with a tiny window over a plain blue bed. A desk stood in the corner, neat and laden with notebooks and pens. There were dumbbells on the floor, resistance bands, a yoga mat. The sight of the room made Annie sad, her first thought being how unbearably solitary it all seemed. She imagined Mikasa alone in here, working her ass off on schoolwork, or exercising, driving herself toward the intangibility of perfection.

Mikasa went to sit cross-legged on the bed, Annie joining her.

“What did you wanna talk about?” Annie said.

“Well. The fighting unit. What if we had, like, more of it?”

“Ask Shadis to extend it?”

“No.” Mikasa shook her head. “He’d never go for that. I was thinking more of a club.”

Annie didn’t know what to say.

“That you and I could start?” Mikasa probed.

“Sure. I mean, I guess anime club doesn’t take much effort so…”

“I don’t have cheer anymore. It’d help me to have something to do. And put on my college apps.”

“You’re thinking about college already?” Annie said.

“It’s senior year, Annie!”

Annie laughed at Mikasa’s freakout. “I know. I was joking. Really.”

Mikasa colored slightly. “I know that!”

“No, you went into Mom Mode again.”

“Mom Mode? When have I…”

“All the time,” Annie said. “Everyone knows you’re like a mother hen to Eren and Armin.”

“Hey, those two need all the help they can get!” Mikasa argued, relaxing a little.

“True,” Annie said so sincerely that Mikasa gave her A Look.

“A fighting club. I think we can just call it Fight Club and Chuck Palahniuk won’t care enough to sue.”

“Yeah. But we need an advisor, and Mr. Smith already advises that scholastic club and the anime club.”

“Advisors don’t have to be faculty,” Mikasa said.

“Really?”

“Yup. They can be staff.”

“Oh.”

“If you don’t mind my uncle.”

“I don’t…Do you?”

“I can handle him,” she said grimly. “Let’s go.”

In the kitchen they were greeted with the scent of hot butter on bread and melting cheese.

“Paninis tonight,” Levi said without turning. The panini press sizzled invitingly, Levi already buttering two more slices of sourdough bread, with lettuce, tomatoes, meats, and cheese waiting to be added.

Mikasa sat at the small table, beckoning Annie to sit with her.

“We were thinking of starting a club,” Mikasa said. “And you’d be good as an advisor.”

“What kind of club would need me?”

“A fight club.”

“Oh.” He removed the finished sandwich from the press. Mikasa and Annie waited, unsure of his feelings.

“Sure. I’ll do it,” he said at last, sliding the panini onto a plate. “Here. Someone eat this.”

The plate sat before Mikasa who slid it toward Annie.

“Really?” Annie said. “You’ll do it?”

“Yeah.” Levi shrugged, adding the next panini to the press.

He leaned against the counter, looking deep in thought. “One thing. Mikasa. Does this mean you’ll let people know we’re related now?”

Mikasa sighed. “Yeah, you can tell people. If you want.”

Annie felt like she wasn’t supposed to hear this conversation, a private meeting between the Ackermans.

“Great,” Levi said. “Now I can brag about my niece to everyone I know.”

Mikasa opened and closed her mouth, not sure how to take the sarcastic praise. “Just act normal,” she finally said.

“A fight club,” he mused. “I know all kinds of disciplines. What’d you want me to teach?”

“All of them,” Mikasa said.

“All of them,” he repeated. “Like a survey course.”

“Right,” Mikasa said. She was very grim around her uncle. Unsmiling and curt. Levi noticed.

“Cheer up, niece,” he said, apparently to get a rise out of her.

Mikasa let out an angry breath and closed her eyes.

“Why should I help you if you always act like this when you bring your friends over?” he asked. “Always keeping it a secret that your guardian mops up puke for a living.”

 _Guardian?_ Annie thought.

Mikasa looked like she was about to snap. “It’s not a secret…”

“Then what is it?”

Annie watched the two of them. It seemed like Levi was adept at pressing his niece’s buttons.

Mikasa struggled under the weight of the question. “You’re such an asshole,” she muttered.

Levi raised his eyebrows. “Sure. That’s me alright.” He opened the press and plated the panini, carried it to his place at the table, and sat.

Mikasa stared at him, livid.

“Make your own,” he said.

Annie hadn’t touched her food yet, and pulled her sandwich apart, offering half to Mikasa.

They ate in silence. As the awkward outsider, Annie felt it was up to her to make conversation.

“So you were an amateur fighter?”

“Yep,” Levi said, taking a bite of his sandwich. Annie waited for him to explain, but he didn’t say anything more.

“He could have gone pro,” Mikasa said. “Easily.”

“Why didn’t you?” Annie asked.

“Other stuff happened,” he said.

“Oh.”

“My parents died,” Mikasa said. “So he took care of me.” Her eyes softened.

Her uncle cleared his throat. “We come from a long line of uncles raising children.”

“No,” Mikasa said with some amusement. “Great Uncle Kenny raised you, but there were no uncles before him, right?”

“Right,” Levi said. “And may he burn in hell, by the way.”

“He’s still alive…” Mikasa said.

“Unfortunate,” he replied. “But we all know where he’s headed once he finally kicks it.”

So Mikasa was an orphan. Annie thought of her little sister, remembering how she’d had to basically raise her by herself. It was rarely easy, but one of the hardest parts was seeing other people’s response to it. No one knew how to react to an unusual family situation. Now Annie was on the other side of it. Do you pry into it or keep your distance? Did Mikasa want to talk about? She was the one who brought up her parents dying…

“Uncle…” Mikasa said tentatively. “If Annie’s gonna be a leader of the club…”

His gaze fell on Annie. “You don’t know shit, do you?”

“No,” Annie admitted. “I can learn though.”

“Can you really?” he said.

She bristled, then calmed herself, knowing he wanted to get under her skin. “If you think I can’t do it, don’t teach me.”

“Nah. I’ll take you on. See how long you last.”

“Deal.”

“Last thing,” Levi said. “Is your ankle up for this, ‘Kasa?”

“I keep telling you it’s healed,” Mikasa snapped.

Annie nearly jumped at her sudden anger, looking back and forth between the two Ackermans gearing up for another fight.

“Pretty fucking miraculous,” Levi said.

“Could you just not bring that up in front of her?” Mikasa said.

_Me? Why wouldn’t she…Ah…_

Annie remembered Mikasa’s torn hands freshman year, ones that didn’t stop her from pushing herself beyond her limits. In all those years, Mikasa hadn’t quite changed for the better, at least in that respect.

“Mikasa. It still hurts?” Annie asked.

“No…It stopped last week, but taking the brace off. It flares up sometimes.”

“She whines about it nonstop,” Levi said.

“If you’re just gonna be a dick all the time then forget about the stupid club!”

Mikasa stood with a screech of her chair, anger plain on her face as she stormed away.

“Shit,” Levi said. “I’m sometimes bad at reading the room. Like, if the room were my niece.”

“Can I go talk to her?” Annie asked.

“You can try,” he said with a shrug. “Tell her I’m kinda sorry…maybe.”

She could tell he felt bad about setting Mikasa off, even if he couldn’t quite express it verbally.

Annie went down the hall, stopping at Mikasa’s door.

“Hey. I’m…Do you want some ice for your ankle? If it hurts we should fix it.”

“…It’s really fine.”

“Can I come in?”

Movement, a click, and the door opened a crack. Annie pushed in. Mikasa was already retreating to her bed.

“I should warn you,” Annie said. “I’m not good at this.”

“At what?”

“Comforting people? Unless that person is a seven-year-old.”

“Lame excuse.” Mikasa sat with her legs hanging over the side of the bed and made room for Annie. “Just try.”

Annie sat with her. “Your uncle said he’s probably sorry or something.”

Mikasa snorted. “Sounds like him. I’m really…not that mad at him. I mean I always am…”

Annie grimaced. “Wanna talk about it, champ?”

Mikasa laughed but seemed to wilt. “He’s…I just…I haven’t had _anyone_ over since he started working at our school. I couldn’t believe it when he said he got _that_ job, you know? Only Eren and Armin…”

Annie nodded.

“And I was so mad at him. I still am, it’s been years, but he could have found literally any other job. But this one pays the best. And I _know_ I should be thankful for what he does for me…But it just gets, like, harder and harder to be in the same room as him, and I only have me to blame for that.”

Mikasa clenched her fists on her lap. It was only natural for Annie to put her hand on Mikasa’s.

“It’s okay.” That was the only thing Annie could think to say, and it worked. Mikasa drew her hand away, using it to wipe at her tears.

“Thanks, Annie. You make me feel like…”

Annie waited, but Mikasa only sighed happily.

“Your ankle is really okay?” Annie said with a frown.

“It really is.”

“But last week it wasn’t. So why did you lie?”

Mikasa stared down at her feet.

“I wanted to fight you…”

“That’s stupid.”

Mikasa shook her head. “You were so into it. You nearly had the same look on your face like you did when you talked about anime. I wanted to share it with you.”

Annie’s face heated up. She couldn’t think of what to say, but Mikasa went on.

“I’m mad that I’m this type of person,” she said. “If I let things heal, I could do better. Be happier. But I’m not.”

“Not happier?”

“Not happy.”

“Oh…”

“Becoming cheer captain didn’t do anything for me. After Historia left, Hitch was next in line, but the coach put me up there. I’m…better at a lot of things…compared to a lot of other people. I make it that way. But it doesn’t help.”

“I think I do the opposite. I keep people’s expectations low by sucking at things. Hasn’t helped me either.”

“Ha. Yeah. Maybe we can meet in the middle?”

Annie smiled and held out her hand. “Sure.”

They shook on it.

“The trick to being bad at sports,” Annie said, “is not giving a damn fuck.”

Mikasa snorted. “And how do you not give that?”

“Dunno. I just have this elusive talent. ‘Fraid that can’t be taught in school.”

“I might envy you.”

“You might reconsider.”

“I think I understand you better now. Better than I ever have before,” Mikasa said.

Annie nodded. “Don’t expect that to keep happening. I’m a tangled web.”

“Meaning you lie?”

“Maybe. But it’s not like I’m good at _that_ either.”

Mikasa laughed. “Are you hungry? We didn’t finish eating.”

“Right. I feel like I got a show though.”

A sigh. “That’s a day in the life, Annie. Come on. Hope my uncle hasn’t tossed our food.”

 

Rosie snored on the couch, head on her father’s lap as he watched the evening news.

“You cheating on National Public Radio?” Annie asked.

“Hm. Sometimes it gets lonely not seeing faces.”

“I guess you make sense. This time.”

She crouched at her dad’s feet, gently shaking Rosie by the shoulder.

“Heeey, kiddie.”

“Mmm? You missed dinner.”

“Had dinner with a friend,” Annie said with a grin.

Rosie sat up fast. “Let’s go to my room!”

She dragged Annie along at a breakneck pace, shoved her into her room, and slammed the door shut.

“Was. It. Mikasa?” Rosie said, her little hand pressing each word into the air.

Annie smiled and shrugged. “Yeah.”

Rosie squealed, jumping up and down and clapping. “I knew it! I knew it!”

“How?”

“My woman’s intuition!”

“Ah, yes. You’ve developed early.”

“Huh?”

“Mikasa will be here tomorrow.”

Rosie hugged herself to Annie.

“You really like her, huh?” Annie asked.

“Funny coming from you.”

“Is not,” she said, holding her close.

 

Training with Mikasa was a blur of heat, sweat, and motion. It wasn’t painful, exactly, though her confusion and frustration mounted every time Mikasa threw her to the ground. And yet it was exhilarating, especially when Mikasa held both Annie’s wrists to the floor, kneeling to straddle her hips, eyes saying, “I dare you to struggle out of this one.”

“I can’t,” Annie said.

“I’ll help you.”

Mikasa dipped forward, pressing a long sweet kiss to Annie’s lips. Annie pushed her hips up, and Mikasa’s hands let go, finding Annie’s hair. A moan escaped Annie at the tugs Mikasa gave to her scalp. From here it was easy to manipulate Mikasa’s whole body, rolling her over, dominating her.

“Winner,” Mikasa said with a sad little smile.

Annie laid herself on Mikasa’s body, trailing kisses down her neck, hands exploring surprisingly soft hips.

“Annie.”

“Mm…”

“There’s something I have to say.”

“Later,” Annie said, but a stern look from Mikasa tempered her.

Mikasa’s hand found Annie’s cheek. They both sat up, Annie in Mikasa’s lap.

“You have to do something for me now,” Mikasa said, smoothing back Annie’s hair.

“What is it?” She knew in that moment that she’d do anything for her.

Mikasa leaned forward, putting her mouth to Annie’s ear. Her voice was softer than a whisper but hit her like ice water. “Annie. You have to wake up.”

“SHIT.” Annie sat up in bed, cold sweat drenching her. She panted in the dark, empty bedroom, eyes searching desperately.

“Oh, God, no.” She pulled her knees in, pressing her forehead to them. “No. Not again…”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I interest you in a [Valentine's Day kindergarten Mikannie oneshot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17054657) I wrote a couple months back? :^)
> 
> Be my Valentine, Reader-Senpai <3


	12. In Close Quarters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a fluke. This had to be a fluke.

Annie looked at her shaking hands in the grey morning light. Coffee wouldn’t help that, but maybe it would clear her head some. Her heart hadn’t slowed since the moment she woke up. Her unsteady legs had borne her to the kitchen where she poured water into the coffee machine and loaded up a tablespoon with grounds. But Mikasa infiltrated her thoughts, and it was as if Annie’s hands went numb at her imagined touch. The grounds spilled at her feet.

“Fuck’s sake.” She bent, sweeping the brown powder with a paper towel, only succeeding in spreading it out more. Then she felt eyes on her. Her father was in the kitchen doorway. She felt caught in the act of her own carelessness, hurrying to wet the paper towel in the sink. Her father walked in, intent on making his own cup.

“Hey!” Annie said. “Let me finish mine first.”

But he was already heaping a spoon with grounds. “Mine will be done when you finish cleaning.”

Annie grunted. She hated that underneath all his spaciness he was really a logical, thoughtful man. As she cleaned the floor, the machine slowly pittered out his coffee. He took his steaming mug and went to drink it in the living room.

The sun was just beginning to rise through the window above the sink, a pale pink strand of light growing across the table. Annie sat with her back to the window, letting the strand morph and shift into brilliant oranges and reds.

Her mind traced over last night. She sipped her coffee and recounted similar dreams. Adding Mikasa, this was the third time, or rather, the third woman she’d dreamed of.

Reluctantly, Annie was drawn back to a scene she’d dreamed last year, one where the tiled walls glowed in the green of fluorescent lights. An empty, echoey place.

A Trost ladies’ room, in fact.

She’d had this particular dream a lot. Every time, Annie began as an outsider. Her vantage point was the bathroom’s entrance, and she’d understand herself, briefly, to be invisible.

Ymir’s back faced Annie, her hands working into Historia’s hair. Historia’s body pressed flush against the tiled wall, weak in her lover’s grasp.

Annie would step in, still unheeded, and her body would fade easily into Ymir’s. For only a moment, she’d think she was Ymir, but her height didn’t dwarf Historia’s, her hands, her arms, her body were all her own. And so Annie plunged her face at Historia’s mouth and closed her eyes, knowing then, as she always did, that something was about to go terribly wrong.

As her fingers blindly curved through Historia’s hair, she felt the locks shift from straight to curled, coiling and twining around her fingers. Annie would open her eyes to see blonde dimming into brown, its length shortening to well above the shoulder. She’d witness the transformation as Hitch stood in Historia’s place, panting, a knowing look written into the upward curve of her lips, into the condescension sparkling in her green eyes.

“Shut up,” Annie would mutter, and Hitch would grab her by the lapel and pull her back in. Their kisses started soft, but became aggressive, even angry, their lips pressing hard into teeth, their tongues sliding, breath huffing as their hands groped each other’s bodies.

Annie didn’t control herself here, never resisting, always letting herself into the flow of desire. Always. But it was worse than a recurring dream, each night drawing Annie further into their makeout sessions. More and more clothes were removed, images that Annie had seen in the locker room plastered into the dreamscape. Hitch in a lacy black bra with matching panties, Annie running a reverent hand down her chest. Eventually, Annie felt an outsider standing behind her, one who would tell everyone in Trost High exactly who Annie Leonhardt was. Every time. Every time she turned to face the interloper, the dream unraveled, with Annie shuddering back into reality.

It was the distance of that following summer, Annie reasoned, or perhaps the sheer force of her will, that made the dreams stop altogether.

She warmed her hands on her mug. The coffee tasted terrible, bitter, but it warded off the cold. Besides Mikasa and Hitch (and various female celebrities that anyone would be attracted to), Annie had only dreamed of one other girl. Mina. And their kisses were chaste, didn’t amount to much. This dream didn’t worry her as the Hitch ones did. Mina was a likeable girl. Cute.

But it still made Annie a lesbian, didn’t it? The word knocked itself around Annie’s mind. She didn’t want to like girls. She wanted to like Jean or any other boy. Hadn’t she liked Bertholdt? Hadn’t she had dreams about him? She had. They just weren’t as intense as…these.

How would she face Mikasa today?

_Oh God, Mikasa. I’m so sorry._

The day after her first Hitch dream had been an awkward hell, with Annie on Hitch’s team in gym class.

“What’s wrong with you?” Hitch had asked. Annie performed worse than usual, without even trying, tripping over herself and dropping the ball, gazing off into the distance as players called her name.

_I don’t like Hitch in any way…but…_

“I said, what’s wrong with you?”

Annie looked up at her. Hitch’s hands were on her hips, her face knotted into a scowl.

_Adorable,_ Annie thought. She couldn’t stop it. Hitch was very beautiful, despite her rotten personality souring Annie’s perception. On the outside was perfect makeup, soft, curly hair, green eyes…

“Nothing’s wrong,” Annie said. She felt herself blushing.

Hitch’s mouth went slack, trying to figure Annie out. “Okay, well, we’re not gonna pass the ball to you anymore. Just stay out of the way, okay?”

Annie nodded quickly. _Hitch sucks,_ she reminded herself.

Which made this thing with Mikasa a thousand times harder. Mikasa was undeniably gorgeous. Smart and kind. Completely wonderful. She and Annie cared about each other deeply. So maybe some wires had crossed in her brain. Annie was simply confused. This was a fluke. This had to be a fluke. She’d have some stupid dream about Jean soon.

One thing that really bothered Annie, one big difference between the Hitch dreams and the Mikasa one, was how bad she’d _wanted_ to touch Mikasa. The Hitch dreams featured this weird, spiteful, almost enraged passion. But with Mikasa, Annie’s lust was full and evident. The dream had come, lighting up Annie’s insides, hammering through her until she was forced to consciousness.

Awful.

It was awful how good she had felt.

That warmth had slipped away as soon as Annie woke. She recalled how her hands had ghosted down Mikasa’s hips, how her mouth had slid open, so eager for Mikasa’s tongue. There was a deep want inherent in that dream. Even awake, Annie couldn’t deny it.

“I want her,” she admitted to the dead morning air. Annie pushed her empty mug aside and laid her head on the table.

 

Her greatest hope that morning was that Mikasa had somehow forgotten about training her for the fight club.

She sat again at the kitchen table, eating cereal with her family.

What was the plan, anyway? Was Annie supposed to go to Mikasa’s? Would Mikasa call her up? When?

“Vvvvrrrrrrr!” Rosie said, flying a spoon of cereal at Annie’s mouth.

Annie opened her mouth in surprise and objection, a spoon going in, milk dribbling out.

“I can feed myself, Ro!” Annie sputtered.

“You’ve been staring into your bowl. Not eating,” Rosie said.

“It’s been roughly five minutes,” her father added helpfully.

Annie crammed a heaping spoonful of cereal into her mouth, only to choke on it when the doorbell rang.

“I’LL GET IT!” Rosie said, sprinting off.

Annie stood and gathered her bowl and spoon, rushing them into the sink. It could only be one person on the other side of the door.

She walked into the living room where Rosie stood hugging Mikasa.

“Annie?” Mikasa said with a perfect smile. “I took a run over here to…I thought you wouldn’t be up yet.” As Rosie let her go, Mikasa tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear. She wore a dark grey oversized Sina University t-shirt. Just below it, Annie could see the hem of some pink shorts, followed by black leggings. Overall, Mikasa looked flushed from her exercise. It made her glow.

Annie had paused too long to speak, Mikasa waiting expectantly, Rosie witnessing curiously. “No I’m…” Annie wiped any traces of food from her mouth. “I got an early start?”

“Great. I thought we could run back to my place. Together?”

“Uh. Sure,” Annie said. “I’ll…” She looked down. She was wearing red plaid pajama pants and an extremely tight blue t-shirt. “I’ll get dressed!”

She ran off to her room, leaving Rosie to entertain their sudden guest.

“Shit,” She said, digging through the lowest drawer of her dresser. She was hoping Mikasa hadn’t gotten a show via Annie’s over-tight shirt. She couldn’t afford to dwell on it too long. What did people wear on runs? It was cold out. Pants? A hat?

Annie settled on a shitty bra, whatever socks and underwear, a loose tee, black sweatpants, and a light, green cotton jacket. She’d get the final okay from Mikasa.

She stopped herself before opening the door. Mikasa was out there. How should she act? Had she already been too weird today? Annie leaned her back against the door and struck up a conversation with whatever god lived above her ceiling.

“Please please please please please! Hetero thoughts and actions only.”

“What?” came Rosie’s voice through the door.

“WHAT?” Annie said, wrenching it open.

“What did you—”

“I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING.”

“Oh. Okey dokey.”

“Why? Were you listening?”

“I was coming to get you. Mikasa’s been waiting. She’s trying to talk to Daddy.”

“How’s that going?”

Rosie screwed up her face. “He’s doing the talking now.”

“Ah. Let’s rescue her then.”

“…of course they haven’t found any microbial life there, but Curiosity paved the way for PLEXIL. Still, if NASA could recover…”

Mikasa nodded frantically. She wouldn’t be able to edge herself back into the conversation at the rate that Annie’s father was going.

“DAD!” Annie said, clapping her hands once, sharply. This seemed the best way to bring him out of a long string of words.

“Hm? I was just telling your—”

“Yeah, that’s great, Dad!” Annie said, hooking her arm in Mikasa’s. “I’ll be back later, and Mikasa will never come here again BYE!”

She tugged Mikasa through to the living room.

“Sorry,” Annie said, as she opened the front door and got them safely outside. “You got him talking on something he actually pays attention to. What was it?”

“The Curiosity rover?”

“Big mistake,” Annie said. “Next time talk about your day, and he’ll tune out in a nanosecond.”

“Oh,” Mikasa said with a frown, shifting slightly to show Annie their arms were still linked. Annie stepped away in terror and faked shivering in the cold.

“We running to your place?” Annie said.

“Hell yeah. I ran here, so I don’t need to stretch out. Get limbered up.”

Annie sat on the pavement and loosened up her legs, her torso, her arms.

“How far is your house?”

Mikasa twirled an earphone. “A little over a mile?”

“Oh.”

_Shit._

“Problem?” Mikasa said with a smirk.

“I’ve…”

_I’ve never run over a mile before._

“No,” Annie decided. “No problem.”

Mikasa bounced on her heels and grinned. “Perfect! Let’s go.”

She put in her earphones and took off at a leisurely pace, looking back once to see Annie follow.

Annie could do this. It was mind over matter, the matter being her lack of muscles.

And what did it matter that she watched Mikasa bounce along in front of her, hair swishing rhythmically, sweatshirt hiding muscles Annie had ogled on more than one occasion, and if she stared at her leggings now, she might be able to see…

How much time had passed? Annie’s breath burned in her throat, her panting grating on her ears. Where the fuck was Mikasa’s house? Was it always so far? How had Mikasa run from there without dying? Was Annie dying?

Mikasa slowed and pulled out an earbud.

“You cool, dude?”

“Haaaa yeah! I’m…how far?”

Mikasa pulled out her phone, but this didn’t stop her relentless pace.

“We’ve gone .57 miles. About a third of the way there!”

“I…fuck…I thought it was a little over? A mile?!”

“Weeeell,” Mikasa said. “If I told you it was 1.7 miles, you wouldn’t have tried.”

Annie slowed, betrayed.

Mikasa looked back at her, showing off a cheeky grin and picking up the pace.

“But aren’t you tired of not trying?” she called back. “Sounds boring! I’ll meet you at my house, ‘kay?!”

Annie gritted her teeth and pushed herself into a sprint.

“UP YOURS, ACKERMAN!” she said as she surpassed her.

Mikasa pushed it harder, running backwards a moment to call out, “Eat shit, Leonhardt!”

Mikasa was practically gone, but Annie refused to quit. She’d be damned if she’d let Mikasa wait for her at the finish line, gloating.

Even as Annie felt that her lungs were withering, that her feet were abused into blisters and blood, that she wouldn’t be able to walk for a week, she kept moving forward. There was no way to catch up to Mikasa, unless Mikasa slowed down, which she did, eventually.

This presented a worse problem: that this beautiful girl Annie was crushing on was right next to her, doing what she did best, with a look in her eyes like she wanted the whole world. And could get it with one more push. Annie struggled on, pathetic, beside her.

She didn’t know what was more taxing on her heart: the run or last night’s dream. Her breath had been snatched, permanently, by this gorgeous woman called Mikasa Ackerman, who in all likelihood only saw Annie as a friend.

“Aaaah!” Mikasa said, slowing to a walk and stretching her arms over her head. “We’re a five-minute walk from my house. Cooldown time.”

Annie marveled at the ease in Mikasa’s step. She walked like she hadn’t run what was, for Annie, a marathon from hell.

And now, the torture of walking side by side, Annie drenched in sweat and stink, Mikasa a barely perspiring goddess of perfect composure.

“Was that good?” Mikasa asked.

“Good? It’s good that it stopped.”

Mikasa chuckled. “You’ll learn to love it, Annie.”

Annie swallowed, hot spit smacking in her mouth. Disgusting.

“So,” Mikasa said. “How have you been?”

“How…”

“These past couple weeks. I made them bad for you, right?”

“Oh. I did fine. Sat with Jean and his friends at lunch.”

“I noticed.”

Annie didn’t know how to respond to that, choosing to say nothing.

“I’m just worried,” Mikasa went on. “I hurt you really bad, right? You don’t still hate me?”

Annie had to smile, the dream flashing in her head. “Not at all. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Mikasa nodded, looked away. “That’s good.”

“Training today. Do you know what your uncle has planned?”

A shrug. “He’s full of ideas, I’m sure. Maybe your first day will be really tough, so he can see how much you can take.”

“Sparring?” Annie asked. The dream came back, two heated bodies tussling on the ground, battling for purchase, groaning in exertion.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Mikasa said.

“I…Maybe if I wanted to go home in a body bag.” The prospect didn’t sound too bad. She felt a little lightheaded, her body too hot, her mind too stuck in last night. How much of this was caused by the run, how much by Mikasa?

They got quiet for a minute, ‘til Mikasa mumbled, “That’s no good.”

Annie followed her line of sight to Levi standing in the doorway of his house.

“Looks like we’re late,” Mikasa said.

“What took you?” Levi asked. “Did you let her stop?”

“She didn’t stop,” Mikasa said, brushing past him. “It just took us a bit to leave her house.”

Annie followed Mikasa into the kitchen, thinking they’d drink water there, but Mikasa opened another door that led them into the garage.

It was well lit, with a punching bag set up in the corner to the left. To the right of the entrance was a small blue couch with a mini fridge next to it. Across, where a car would enter, was a desk heaped with books. Stepping in, Annie saw they were all books about different fighting techniques. Near that was a rack of free weights that all looked too heavy for Annie. The room was insulated from the cold, and there were a couple heaters running. The only clues that this room was a garage was the door and the parts of the dirty grey floor not covered by thick black mats.

“Oh man,” Annie said.

Mikasa went to the mini fridge and brought Annie a cold water.

“Nicest room in the house,” she told her.

Annie only nodded and twisted the cap from the bottle, taking a long drink. She focused on the chilled water running through her throat. Nothing else had to matter besides the satisfaction in quenching her thirst.

Levi gave off an ill-tempered, impatient aura. He stood in a black t-shirt and black sweatpants, arms folded. Mikasa stepped away, throwing herself onto the couch. All at once Annie felt alone with the man who would train her.

“Show me,” he said.

Mikasa snorted.

“What?” Annie asked.

“What you can do,” Mikasa said.

“Tae Kwon Do?” Annie said lamely.

Levi assumed the stance. Annie did her best to replicate it, cursing the slight shaking she already felt when she bent her knees. She raised her arms up and stood in a deadlock with Levi. Where should she begin? Whatever happened, she wouldn’t be good enough.

She attacked with a roundhouse. Levi tsked at her predictability. Her right leg was aimed at his left, but instead of blocking, Levi moved that leg to sweep Annie’s supporting leg. Annie went down, landing hard on her right side.

Who the fuck did this guy think he was? She jumped to her feet and attacked with a jab. This time, Levi blocked it. And laughed.

“What?” Annie said, her right side burning from the impact.

“You got back up,” Mikasa said. “Really fast.”

Levi nodded sagely, but offered no further praise.

“Told you,” Mikasa said to him with a yawn.

Levi headed for the desk and picked up several books.

“Learn this shit.” He dropped them in Annie’s arms. “Mikasa will condition you into shape. Then we start with Muay Thai.”

“Okay…”

Before exiting, he glared at Mikasa and said, “No. Fucking. Sparring.”

“Of course not,” Mikasa said sweetly. He held her gaze for a long moment and left.

“He likes you,” she told Annie.

“That’s how he treats people he likes?”

Annie fidgeted and tugged at her sleeve. How did Mikasa treat people she liked?

“Sure,” Mikasa said. “I was a little worried he’d refuse to teach you. It took forever before he started taking me seriously. Like years.”

“Wouldn’t that be because you were a little kid?”

“I dunno. I think he thought I didn’t have what it takes. I still wonder.”

“Seriously? You’re built for this shit.” Annie forgot her feelings. Mikasa couldn’t possibly think she wasn’t good enough.

“Not back then. I cried when he first knocked me down.”

“Oh. Sounds abusive?”

“Nah. He picked me up and took me for ice cream. That makes me sound like I was seven. But this was in junior high.”

“Still. That’s a bit young to be taking a punch from a grown-ass adult.”

“I’m sure he went easy on me. Second time hurt more.” Mikasa’s lips quirked up. “But I got back up. No tears.”

“You have an interesting family.”

“If I said ‘same to you’ would you get mad?”

“Nah. My fam’s fucked up.”

_Fam?_ Annie thought. Was that an incredibly dorky thing to say? She studied Mikasa’s face. It gave no hint that Mikasa thought she was a huge nerd.

“So,” Mikasa said, throwing her water bottle into a recycling can. “Did you want to try sparring?”

“With you?” Annie said, voice a bit too high, color rising in her cheeks.

_Dammit._

“If you’re afraid of me annihilating you again,” Mikasa said happily, “you can delay it.”

_Oh, for fuck’s sake._

“I’m not afraid. I just know you have tons of experience. So why try?”

_I’m not afraid. I just don’t want to get turned on, re: last night’s sexy dream._

Annie’s bluff about “experience” would do. Mikasa would think Annie was afraid of how lanky and novice she was in comparison. Come to think of it, that could be a _very_ valid fear.

“Don’t bother worrying over what my uncle said about not sparring. I’d be in trouble. Not you.”

_Yeah right._ Anyone could get on his bad side. She’d been on it enough times already.

“Still,” Mikasa said, “fundamentals are better than jumping right in like we had to do in gym. I’ll teach you the basic stance first.”

Annie could have jumped for joy. Delaying a heated sparring season was a dream come true. Or not, she realized.

“Hands way, way up,” Mikasa instructed. “In front of your face, and your elbows are a lot higher than they’d be in Tae Kwon Do.”

Annie mirrored it back, Mikasa stepping in to make adjustments.

“Left foot forward. And hips are squared,” Mikasa said, placing her hands there gently. Annie seized up.

“Oh…” Annie said. “Sorry…”

“No it’s…” Mikasa said dropping her hands and stepping back. She then clasped her hands together and looked anywhere but Annie before saying, “Sorry. This is gonna be pretty hands on…”

Annie shook her head. “It’s fine.”

“Let’s get into the stepping motion,” Mikasa said brusquely. She reentered her stance and began to march. “Shifting the weight like this constantly means you can time your kicks better.”

Annie tried. It felt unnatural, stepping in place when no kicks or anything were coming at her.

“Great,” Mikasa said. “Do that for five.”

“Five?”

“Yeah. Get used to it.” She messed around with her phone for a moment. “I set a timer. I’m gonna look through those books my uncle gave you.”

Mikasa went off and splayed herself on the couch again, flipping through a manual.

Annie felt like an idiot. What if she was doing it wrong?

“You’re dropping your arms,” Mikasa said a minute in.

“Shit.” Annie pulled them back up, trying to remember where to point her elbows. The minutes ticked by, Annie wondering all the while if this would actually help her. Mikasa had said she’d be “hands on,” but her lounging on the couch was about as hands off as a person could get while still being in the same room.

Blessedly, Mikasa’s phone timer went off, and Annie relaxed her limbs. It had ached a bit, especially her arms being raised so long.

Then…Mikasa did something truly terrifying.

“Okay,” she said, stepping toe to toe with Annie and putting her palms on the back of Annie’s neck. “Put your hands on me.”

“What?! WHY?!” Annie said, resisting the urge to struggle away.

Mikasa laughed and didn’t let go. “Because it’s a clinch? Clinching is really important in Muay Thai. I figured I’d show you the positioning. Is that okay, Annie?”

Annie stepped back in, and Mikasa’s grip relaxed a little.

“Oh. Yeah…you just surprised me.”

“Come on. Hands high on the back of my neck. Wait.”

Mikasa stepped away to pull her sweatshirt off. Annie nearly had a brain aneurysm upon seeing Mikasa’s black sports bra. The definition in her arms and the abs made of granite did not help.

“Okay,” Mikasa said, gesturing to her neck.

Annie laid her hands on Mikasa, feeling the heat of her radiating onto her palms. With Mikasa’s height, Annie had a very interesting view. She tried to refocus it onto just the logo of Mikasa’s sports bra.

“Clinching is all about superior arm positioning. The goal is to force the opponent’s head down.” Here she increased the pressure, and Annie’s head and gaze were forced even closer to Mikasa’s chest.

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…_

“It’s the best place to throw elbows and kicks,” Mikasa went on, gently going through those motions. “The favorite spot is having your arms inside your opponent’s.”

Mikasa’s warm breath puffed onto Annie’s head as she talked. Annie caught the slight scent of sweat and deodorant coming off of her, weirdly intoxicating in a way that made Annie feel like an absolute pervert.

Mikasa led her through a drill where she’d try to maneuver to the coveted “arms inside” position, Annie resisting as best she could. Seeing Annie improve, Mikasa added a pivoting step that spun them a half circle. It took all of Annie’s focus to convince herself that they weren’t dancing.

In such close quarters, Annie became breathless, Mikasa more often than not overtaking her, hands slipping inside to force Annie’s head down.

“Wake up, Annie!” Mikasa said after her fifth consecutive victory.

_“Annie. You have to wake up,”_ Mikasa said in last night’s dream.

Annie wrenched herself away, gasping.

Mikasa paused. “Oh. Had enough for today?”

After what felt like hours of close contact, Annie yelped out a yes, and they threw themselves onto the couch, drinking their fill of water.

“Not so bad, right?” Mikasa said. “Just do this every day. And my uncle said he’d be writing up exercises for you to do at home.”

“ _Every_ day?” Annie teased.

“Don’t skip anything. We’ll know.”

“Threatening me, Ackerman?”

“Of course,” she said, smiling warmly.

Annie fiddled with the cap to her bottle. There was no way she could be so intimate with Mikasa, day in day out. Not now. Not after that embarrassing dream. She had to come up with a plan. It was obvious that she didn’t truly want the contact to end. Annie had to create a diversion.

“About Jean…” Annie began.

Mikasa sat up. “Jean?”

“Do you think I should, like, go for it?”

Mikasa frowned and tilted her head. “I thought you didn’t want to.”

“I dunno. It could work? If I tried.”

“You shouldn’t have to try,” Mikasa said. Her arm came up on the back of the couch. “It should feel good. To think about being with that person.”

Annie nodded and clenched her fists in her lap. “I think it’d be alright. Me and Jean.” She hoped the lie in her voice didn’t reach Mikasa as easily as it reached her own ears.

“If that’s what makes you happy,” Mikasa said doubtfully. “But…You shouldn’t do things if you’re confused. Are you confused?”

Annie’s voice hardened. “What makes you say that?”

“You usually have more conviction about things. Talking about Jean, you’re kind of wavering.”

Annie sighed. “Right. It’d confuse Jean if I went after him. After all this time.”

“I’ll help you,” Mikasa said. “We’ll figure this out. Before tonight’s anime club.”

“Right. Where do we start?”

“We start…by you sitting next to him tonight. That’s pivotal.”

“Okay. Do I like…put my arm around him?”

Mikasa burst out laughing, and Annie couldn’t help notice how she dropped her arm off the back of the couch. “Um? No? That’s a little fast, Annie.”

“Ah. Okay.”

“But sit close. Gradually. Get your arms touching and make him wonder. That’s the good stuff.”

Annie felt like she should be writing this down.

“Sit like you’re watching the TV,” Mikasa said.

Annie repositioned herself, intensely afraid of where this had to be heading as Mikasa closed the distance between them.

“Start with your upper arm. You’ll probably both be wearing long sleeves, so let the fabric touch.”

Annie stiffened. So close.

“You can stop there or…” Mikasa said, “get a bit closer.”

The heat of Mikasa’s arm seemed to burn through the fabric of Annie’s jacket.

“Then what?” Annie asked.

Mikasa laid back on the couch and smiled. “I think that’s enough for one anime club.”

“But that’s just sitting. Shouldn’t I act weird or something?”

Mikasa snorted. “If you want him to think you’re weird, then go for it.”

“Not…weird. Different.”

“Different,” Mikasa said, hand coming to her chin. “Why don’t you give him a smile or two? It stands out on you, since you do it so little. Looks nice.”

Annie breathed in sharply.

_Nice?_

“Okay. I can try that.”

“Try now.”

Annie stared at her, mouth twitching awkwardly, lips refusing to go up naturally. Mikasa covered her own mouth, delighted at seeing Annie’s struggle. Until it was so funny that they were both cracking up.

“Okay,” Mikasa said. “You’ll only smile if you feel like it. When you tried, it looked like you maybe wanted to eat me.”

Annie’s laughter subsided. “Yeah. Maybe that’s why Jean thinks I don’t like him.”

“Oh? Did he legit say that?”

“Yeah. When the rumors started up. You heard, right?”

Mikasa paused. “I might have heard something about you and him from another cheerleader.”

“Well that’s when he said I didn’t like him. He was…pretty nice about it, really.”

“That when you started liking him?”

“Sure.”

Mikasa’s face passed through several expressions as she tried to figure Annie out. “Hm. I guess you’re only young once. Might as well go for it.” Her thumbs came together in her lap, fidgeting around each other in a quick, complex pattern.

Annie nodded absently. “So. Done for today?”

“I guess.” Mikasa stretched, but to Annie her nonchalance seemed forced. Why?

Mikasa stood, bouncing on her heels, and led Annie into her kitchen.

_A little too chipper,_ Annie thought.

Levi sat at the kitchen table and ripped a page from a spiral.

“Here,” he said, handing Annie a list scrawled in neat black pen. “Cardio’s important, so you’re running back home today.”

Mikasa loaded Annie’s new books into a cheap drawstring backpack, and Annie raked over the words on Levi’s list. Instructions for how to become a Muay Thai fighter. Cardio, aerobic exercise, strength training, shadow boxing, shin conditioning, even a dietary guide.

“Does this mean I can’t eat ramen?” she asked.

“Sometimes,” Levi answered.

“And what is shadow boxing?”

“In your books,” Levi said.

“And shin conditioning…”

“Have Mikasa show you.”

Annie tried one more time. “Aerobic—”

“Google it.” End of conversation.

“I’ll see you tonight?” Mikasa said, voice brimming with amusement.

“Yeah. Seven.”

Mikasa raised her eyebrows. “Can’t wait.”

What did that mean? Annie went off to stretch alone in the frigid air, outside Mikasa’s front door. Did Mikasa know something Annie didn’t? Was it stupid to bring up Jean? She worried she was being incredibly transparent.

_Incredibly lesbian,_ she thought, setting off into a light jog.

She’d considered this before, of course, in the days after dreams of Hitch or Mina. Annie didn’t rue the fact that she might be into girls, just that she was into them in this town. Trost wasn’t some backward hick place. It had its nice, sprawling homes, the comfortable enough area that Annie resided in, and it had its scummy, opioid projects: impoverished, dangerous, avoided, and ignored.

Annie pushed herself harder, lungs begging for rest, limbs getting lost in a swift rhythm. Trost wasn’t so bad, but she’d seen firsthand her school’s reaction to Historia and Ymir. Annie couldn’t do it. Couldn’t go down that ostracized road, not when she’d finally pushed herself off it this year.

_Finally._

She stopped, hands on her knees, breath wheezing out, maybe a five, ten-minute walk from her place. That was good enough for today.

 

Rosie spread out the pile of Miyazaki DVDs on the living room carpet, tossing aside ones she didn’t like a bit too roughly.

“Hey!” Annie said. “DVDs don’t grow on trees.”

“Can we do _Ponyo_?” Rosie said, gently setting _Nausicaa_ to the side.

“This is a party for adults.”

“You’re watching cartoons. Try again, kiddo,” Rosie said.

“DON’T COPY THE WAY I TALK.”

Rosie snickered. “ _Kiki’s Delivery Service_?”

“Too young. I’ve narrowed it down to these three.”

She slid her choices across the floor to Rosie.

“ _Howl’s Moving Castle,_ ” Rosie read.

“You’d like that one. It’s based on a kid’s book.”

“A party for adults,” Rosie mumbled.

“Hey!”

“ _Spirited Away,_ ” Rosie said. “The one with the pig parents.”

“Yeah. Oink oink!” Annie said, tickling her sister.

Rosie fell onto her back but wriggled away and ran behind the couch, out of Annie’s reach.

“You’ve seen that at least three times,” Annie said. “But this one…” She tapped the third cover, and Rosie snuck back over to see.

“ _Princess Monono…nonoke_?”

“ _Mononoke,_ ” Annie said. “It’s a bit scary. And bloody. Think you can handle it?”

Rosie puffed herself up. “YEAH.”

“Okay. I’ll warn you about the spooky parts.”

She checked the time on her phone. Less than an hour ‘til the party.

“Stop worrying,” Rosie said, scooping up several rejected DVDs in her arms and dropping two of them as she stood. “Sorry.” She dropped three more in bending to pick them up.

Annie swooped in and stacked them neatly. “I’m not worried. There’s…nothing to worry about.” She said it more for herself than for Rosie. How hard was it to pretend to not have a weird crush thing on someone?

They went into Annie’s room, Annie giving Rosie the stink eye when she tossed her stack of DVDs on the bed.

Actually, it might be harder to pretend to like Jean than to pretend to not like Mikasa. No offense to the guy, but Mikasa was…they’d been through a lot together. They’d survived all that shit, and they came out okay. More than okay.

“More than okay?” Annie muttered to herself as she straightened the DVDs.

“Huh?”

Annie sighed. “Nothing. Worried they won’t like the movie.”

“You said that guy only makes really good movies.”

“True. Get out of my room a minute. I have some snacks hidden.”

Rosie sprang up, knowing the faster she left, the faster she’d eat.

Annie went into her closet and came out a moment later with plastic bags full of several types of chips and cookies. They ranged from the safe stuff like potato chips and Oreos to more out there selections like the Taiwanese seaweed-flavored chips she’d found in the little Asian market three towns over, which also stocked all kinds of weird Japanese Kit Kats.

Rosie wrinkled her nose upon seeing the peach Kit Kats and put them back in the bag.

“Then don’t eat them,” Annie said, going off to set everything on the coffee table. “Honestly, just stick to the Lays and Oreos. The other stuff is for our guests.”

“How many people?”

“Many.”

“They’re all your friends?”

She seemed way more excited than Annie about this.

“Hope so,” she answered.

“They like you,” Rosie reassured her. “Not like they’re coming over to eat your gross seaweed.”

“If you’re not going to try it, then more for us,” Annie said haughtily. “Let’s watch some _Pokémon_ before everyone gets here.”

Annie didn’t pay attention to the TV, instead scrolling through the growing contact list in her phone. She paused at Historia’s name. Why not? She shot off a text.

Annie: I’m having an anime party tonight. You and Ymir can come by anytime?

Historia Reiss: Will there b hot bbbboyyyssssss

Annie: No Ymir. Just Trost boys

Historia Reiss: :( we will have to think

Annie: ok

She looked around.

“People are definitely gonna have to sit on the floor.”

“That many?”

“Yeah. We can only fit like five or six people on the couches.”

“I’m sitting on your lap.”

Annie thought about her arm getting close to touching Jean’s. Maybe Rosie could be her excuse not to.

“Sure, kiddo.”

During the _Pokémon_ episode, Annie dozed off, jolting awake when the doorbell rang. She went to answer, deciding not to take a deep breath since Rosie was watching. Connie and Sasha stood on her doorstep.

“Hey,” Sasha said, breezing into Annie’s home without taking off her shoes. Connie shook his head.

“Get back over here,” he said.

“Oh. Who’s this?” Sasha looked at Rosie who huddled behind the safety of a couch pillow.

“That’s my little sis Rosie. She bites.”

“I do not!” Rosie said.

Sasha laughed and took off her shoes alongside Connie.

Soon Jean and Marco showed up. Rosie waved to Jean but shied away from Marco. Basically a stranger.

Annie invited everyone in and went to make some popcorn when Jean walked into the kitchen.

“Hey, Annie,” he said. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Oh?”

_Maybe I won’t have to do anything._

“Well, I…just wanted to—”

The doorbell rang.

“Must be Mikasa,” Annie said.

“Oh,” Jean said with a shy smile. “Yeah.”

Annie opened the door to find Mikasa standing there with two packs of Oreos in her hands. Armin and Eren peered in behind her.

“I brought snacks,” she said proudly.

“Thanks!” Annie ushered them in.

“Hey, Mikasa,” Jean said.

“Hey,” she responded, barely noticing him.

“What was that thing, Jean?” Annie said.

“Oh. N-nothing,” he stammered. “It was nothing.”

“Hey, Rosie!” Mikasa said. Rosie latched onto her, and Mikasa handed over the Oreos to Annie.

“What are we watching?” Armin asked.

Annie took a big breath. “I guess… _Princess Mononoke_?”

“I love that one,” Mikasa said. “It’s really good.”

Relief flowed through Annie. If Mikasa gave it her seal of approval, everyone else was sure to like it.

“Well, I’m sorry you’ve already seen it,” Annie said.

“It’s fine. It’s one of those movies that’s good to watch again.”

Mikasa, Annie, and Jean sat on the couch facing the TV, with Annie in the middle. She looked to her right to see Mikasa grinning at her: the plan was set into motion. Sasha and Connie shared the loveseat that faced the door, perpendicular to the bigger couch. Unfortunately, Armin, Eren, and Marco had to sit on the floor, but they didn’t seem to mind. Eren and Connie bonded over whatever dumbass boys could bond over: sports, memes, boobs maybe? Annie was glad that their circles were mixing easily enough.

Everyone was having a good time. Annie held Rosie in her lap, trying to keep her from eating all three packs of Oreos. The others seemed interested in the movie, talking only occasionally. Annie read Rosie the fast-moving subtitles in a hushed voice.

“…and see with eyes unclouded by hate.”

“That’s deep,” Connie said.

“Yeah,” Sasha said. “This movie is smarter than me.”

“What movie isn’t?” Jean asked.

“Hey!” Sasha then leaned back to pour the last bits of the seaweed chip crumbs into her mouth, causing the dust of the stuff to get into her eyes. “Ah shit of all shits, it buuuurns!”

“Oh. It’s sad,” Jean said as everyone laughed.

The doorbell rang, and Annie paused the movie.

“More people?” Mikasa asked.

“Just two.”

Annie opened the door, Ymir drifting in ultra-casual, hands in her pockets, kicking off her shoes as she walked. Historia stood at the threshold like she was standing at a cliff’s edge. Ymir almost got to the couch before she noticed Historia not tagging along. Her solution was to go back and lift her girlfriend, expertly draping Historia’s body over her neck like an open scarf. Historia’s face blotched red, and she let out a long-suffering sigh that told Annie this had happened many times before.

Annie surveyed the room. Most wore dazed looks that went into hiding with varying degrees of success. Eren, for example, swiveled his head from the lesbian couple and back to whoever would catch his eye, ‘til Armin forced a hand on Eren’s head, immobilizing his neck.

It was Sasha who dissolved the tension by tossing an unopened bag of chips at Ymir with the words, “Chips, bitch.”

“That is not polite,” Connie said.

“You could have hit her eyes!” Jean said.

“SHADDAP!” Sasha yelled back.

“She must like you,” Connie said to Ymir, “if she’s trying to give you food.”

“I do like Ymir,” she said. “She terrifies me.”

Pleased by the compliment, Ymir deposited Historia between Annie’s couch and the coffee table, settling herself on the floor against the small open space between Jean and Annie’s legs. Rosie got off to head for the bathroom. To make room for Ymir, Annie pulled her legs up and instinctually scooted toward Mikasa, who looked at her and tilted her head toward Jean. Annie grimaced. She began turning to Jean only to see Ymir’s head lolled back, eyes flitting between Mikasa and Annie.

Annie swallowed. If anyone had a gaydar, it was Ymir. Why did it have to belong to someone who would, no doubt, do something about it?

Ymir’s lips turned up slightly as she put arm around Historia.

Annie’s heart knocked against her chest.

“So. Anime,” Ymir said, looking to the screen. “Where we at?”

Annie pressed play.

“This guy Ashitaka’s cursed by a monster,” Historia said out of nowhere. “He’s traveling to break the curse. I think he’ll meet the princess in a minute.”

“Yeah,” Annie said, impressed.

“I’ve seen everything by Studio Ghibli,” Historia said softly.

It made sense. Historia was always reading those huge fantasy books.

The movie drew everyone into an engrossed silence. Sasha even punched Eren in the back of the head when he tried to make a joke during the first fight between Princess Mononoke and Ashitaka.

At one point, Annie let go of Rosie, who seemed to be falling asleep. She quietly pried to Oreos from her little hands and tossed them on the coffee table. Annie’s hand dropped to her side, accidentally grazing Mikasa’s. She quickly drew away from the touch, but Mikasa smiled at her so sweetly that Annie’s embarrassment faded instantly, replaced by something that she did not yet have a name for.

The movie ended with love and good’s triumph over hate and evil. Annie stretched herself out, allowing one sensual brush of her arm against Jean’s. Mikasa’s elbow immediately dug into Annie’s ribs, and Annie looked over to see her friend’s proud smile.

Ymir and Historia got out of there first. Then Connie, Sasha, and Marco left, Sasha smuggling the leftover cookies and candy inside an empty chip bag. Annie stopped herself from thanking Sasha for “cleaning up.”

Jean seemed to hang back.

“I want to, um,” he said, glancing at the others who remained.

“Yeah,” Annie said, voice a bit tight. “Stick around.”

Mikasa got the message and ushered Eren and Armin out.

“Thanks for having us!” Armin said cheerily.

“Bye, dickhead,” Eren said to Jean.

Jean waved him off

“Bye, Annie. Jean,” Mikasa sang.

Annie wanted to laugh. She’d have to text Mikasa about this later.

“Bye,” Jean said.

When Annie closed the door, she looked at Jean standing in the middle of the living room.

“So,” she said, leaning against the door.

Jean took a step toward her, looking down, his hands in his pockets. “I was just wondering, um…”

“Just say it.” Her heart was pounding. She could almost smile.

Jean swallowed. “I was wondering. Do you think Mikasa likes me? Like if I asked her out—”

Annie closed her eyes.

“—Would she say yes?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to me loving you guys a lot, the next chapters will come out faster. Thank you for your continued support!


	13. Paper and Rock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She wished she could pull the dream she had out of the world. But where would she dispose of it? With all the dreams that were forgotten by the time she sat down to breakfast? With all the nightmares that brooded always at the back of her mind?

Annie brought her hands to her chin in a prayer position, eyes still shut.

“You’re asking me…” she began, “…if Mikasa is interested in dating you?”

“Yes,” Jean said as if it were the most natural question in the world.

“Why?” Annie opened her eyes. She felt her eyebrows pull down as she looked at him. This was not going to be pretty.

“W-why?” He rubbed at the back of his neck, giving her one of his stupid nervous grins.

 _Yes, that’s what he is,_ Annie thought bitterly. _Underneath all his cockiness is a boy scared of women._

“Why _,_ Jean!” Annie said. “Like why would you ask _me_? Why would you ask me at all? Why would you make it seem like…like you _liked_ me? And then just change your mind? Or whatever?!”

“Oh. I thought you weren’t interested.”

Annie brushed her hair out of her eyes and collected herself. He might have had a point there, but it didn’t make her any less angry. “I mean…I felt _some_ interest. I wasn’t sure. What I’m trying to figure out is how you changed _gears_ so fast. You just changed your mind like I’m so replaceable. Like girls are just girls. Warm bodies.”

Jean raised his hands up defensively. “Annie, I’m sorry. A guy…a guy has needs you know.”

“Needs!” Annie said, dangerously close to laughing in his face. “Jean, I don’t _need_ you in my house. I don’t know if Mikasa would like to date you. Better ask her yourself.”

Aside from the insult Jean had dealt her, a sour, jealous pit had welled up in Annie.

 _Don’t you dare take her from me,_ it said.

“I’m sorry, Annie.”

“Whatever.”

She opened the door for him.

Jean stepped out, opened his mouth to say something stupid, and got the door slammed in his face. She covered her face in her hands.

“Stupid.”

“That was bad,” Rosie said from the couch. She was laying down on her back, looking at Annie upside down as she hugged a pillow to her chest.

“Yeah,” Annie said. She wished Rosie hadn’t seen that. “It really was. I can’t believe that guy.”

Rosie nodded upside down, then sat up. “Jerk. I don’t like him anymore.”

Annie sighed. “I dunno. He’s fine. But it would get so weird if he…dated her. I really don’t want that.”

“I don’t think Mikasa will date him.”

Annie nodded.

“Did you want to?” Rosie asked.

“Date…” She nearly thought Rosie was asking about Mikasa. “Oh. Date him? Sure. Maybe. I dunno. He was right I didn’t…show him I liked him enough.”

“Are you still gonna be friends?”

“…Yeah. I don’t want to lose everyone I made friends with this year. Dammit, Mikasa’s gonna ask! I don’t know what to tell her.”

“The truth is good.”

“Barf.”

Mikasa texted Annie about fifteen minutes later, when she and Rosie were laying on the couch.

Mikasa Ackerman: Did you make out?

Annie: NO

Mikasa Ackerman: What happened?

Annie: adjfkldjfskldjf ok…

Mikasa Ackerman: ?

Annie: He likes YOU.

Mikasa Ackerman: Oh.

A pause where Annie dwelled on the idea of Mikasa dating Jean…

Then three quick texts, one after another from Mikasa.

Mikasa Ackerman: Seriously?

Mikasa Ackerman: Annie

Mikasa Ackerman: WHATTTT

Annie exhaled. Seems she wasn’t into him either.

Annie: Yeah

Mikasa Ackerman: Why did he tell you that?

Annie: To see if you liked him?

Mikasa Ackerman: Coward

Mikasa Ackerman: COWARD

Mikasa Ackerman: I’m calling you.

Annie’s phone started ringing. She picked up.

“Annie, I’m sorry!” Mikasa said. “What a dillhole. I thought he liked you.”

“He did. But I didn’t give him signals. Or something. I don’t know how to do that stuff.”

“I’m not good at that either, so don’t worry. I _know_ I didn’t give _him_ any signals. He’s such an idiot. Boys are dumb.”

Annie switched the phone to her other ear and went to her room. “Yeah. They are.”

“I wouldn’t ever date Jean. Even if I liked him, which I don’t, I wouldn’t do that to you, okay?”

“Okay. I really thought he was gonna ask me out. Guess that’s not happening.”

“It would have been fun,” Mikasa said. “Getting you dressed up for your date. Doing your makeup. You could have texted me while you had dinner with him. Everything.”

Annie laughed. “Yeah. It would’ve been interesting for sure.”

“Well. Monday should be.”

“Yep,” Annie said. “Maybe I should text him?”

“Nah. Just talk to him. You can tell him I’m not interested too.”

“God,” Annie laughed. “This is so stupid.”

“It really is. Just don’t let this get in the way of our ping pong unit next week.”

“Heh. Okay. We’ll kick ass,” Annie said.

“Damn straight we will.”

“Hey, so are you showing up at my house tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna get you up earlier. You need to get used to before-school runs.”

“Sorry I asked,” Annie said, making Mikasa laugh.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Bye.”

More time with Mikasa. More time pretending that everything was okay. Annie was fine. She could keep a lid on her desires, blend in like a spy, bend over backwards in the hopes of appearing halfway straight.

 

Annie didn’t have to look down to know she was the queen bee, decked in a purple-green cheerleader’s uniform. Her view from the top, the girls tossing her in the air, the glittering and blinding stadium lights, told her as much. She’d never felt so seen.

She decided it felt good.

Then, she fell. And as she fell, she saw Mikasa on the bleachers, in the cold, wrapped in a grey Trost hoodie, peering frightened from behind big, black-rimmed glasses.

Across the great distance, she heard Mikasa clear as a bell: “I wouldn’t do that to you, okay?”

Annie went down, wind sucked from her throat. With a jolt she impacted her bed, awake and at once spent. It didn’t have to mean anything, that one sweet moment of arousal-tinged terror as Mikasa stared into her.

Annie pulled her pillow over her face and let out a light scream.

With that small stream of anguish unleashed (though there were miles more of it inside), Annie started her day, walking into the living room with her bedhead hair and sleep in her eyes.

“Morning,” Mikasa said from the couch.

Annie’s head could have hit the ceiling. She’d walked past the back of the couch on her way to the kitchen. That voice…

“Did I scare you?” Mikasa said, sitting up happily. “Your dad let me in. Su casa es mi casa.”

Mikasa’s forearms rested over the back of the couch, her head propped on them.

“It’s too early for jokes that make no sense,” Annie answered.

“We gotta run hard today. Uncle’s pissed we slacked off yesterday.”

“Well, if it’s uncle’s orders…”

“We have no say.”

They smiled at each other. Dumb jokes shared before the sunrise.

Annie went and dressed, processing her dream all the while. It was probably too early in the morning for Mikasa to notice Annie was freaking out. They did their run in silence. Then they’d arrive at Mikasa’s, tangle their bodies together, sweat together.

Now, in the quiet of their breath against the morning cold, Mikasa struck up a conversation.

“Are you alright? You seem a bit off. Or did I just wake you too early?”

_Oh, you fucking woke me alright._

“Been having nightmares,” Annie said and increased the pace.

Annie felt she had to push herself forward through the day, or else the day would pull her forward, hard. But Mikasa caught up to her in no time.

“Hey! Wait up. Do you wanna talk about it?”

Annie slowed, her limbs spontaneously rejecting the exhausting motion all at once. She stopped completely, bent with her hands on her knees. Mikasa’s hand found her back.

“I understand,” she said. “I get nightmares too.”

“Nightmares aren’t real,” Annie mumbled.

Mikasa didn’t say anything, and Annie didn’t look at her as she huffed in air. Then she took off at a more manageable pace, like nothing had happened.

Maybe they wouldn’t talk about it again.

 

On Monday morning, sore from running, hands burning from practicing jabs on a bag, Annie sat stiffly next to Mikasa in math class, acutely aware of her own feelings. As they passed notes, Annie had to fake stifling laughs: the things Mikasa wrote were funny, and it would be normal for Annie to laugh.

“Worried about seeing Jean?” Mikasa wrote.

Mikasa saw through her, enough to know something was off. Annie rolled with it.

“I guess.”

“Just ignore him. It’ll drive him crazy for a while,” Mikasa advised.

Sure. Annie could do that. She found a weird anger brewing toward him. Why not fucking rage at someone?

So she sat away from him in art, then went to lunch with Mikasa, Armin, and Eren in the library.

A large, dust-caked place, its few windows and high shelves allowing almost enough light to see. It was a satisfying place to Annie, as if being there meant she was getting academic things done.

They went down a long aisle to seek out a table away from librarians.

“Feels haunted,” Eren said.

“Don’t be silly,” Mikasa muttered.

“Maybe by sapphics,” Ymir said, startling them from behind.

“What’s a sapphic?” Eren asked.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Mikasa grumbled.

They went to the table to find Historia already there, blonde hair lit angelically by the window next to the table.

“I picked up strays,” Ymir announced.

Historia smiled gently and nodded, clearing space around her.

“This is where the magic happens,” Ymir stage-whispered to Annie.

“Don’t be weird, Yim,” Historia said.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Neither does anyone else. I hope,” Historia said.

“Who you guys hiding from?” Ymir asked.

Mikasa and Annie looked at each other.

“Just wanted some peace and quiet,” Mikasa said.

“BOOORING,” Ymir boomed, loud enough to earn a shush from way across the room. Peeved, Historia grabbed Ymir’s cheek and twisted, resulting in an even louder “ow” and an affectionate pinch back.

Annie was kind of…jealous? What must it be like to be out there, loving another girl despite everything? She couldn’t help her glance at Mikasa, unnerved that she was staring right back. Mikasa raised her eyebrows, and Annie floundered under her gaze.

Worse was that Ymir scrutinized the two of them, wheels turning behind her eyes. Did she know? Had Annie given herself away somehow? Or was it paranoia on Annie’s part?

“So,” Ymir said after they’d settled at the small table. “Guess I’m collecting ex-cheer captains. And others.”

“Is that what you call making friends?” Mikasa said. An edge to her voice told Annie she wasn’t so pleased at how she’d been categorized.

Ymir ignored it. “Heard the new captain is screwed.”

“Really?” Annie said. Despite how Mikasa bristled, Annie leaned in to hear news of Hitch.

“Last place at the Friday competition,” Ymir said. “Something about shaken morale?”

“Whatever,” Mikasa said and bit into a salad. “Has nothing to do with us. Right?” Her eyes cut into Annie.

“Right,” she said. But it didn’t feel quite over to Annie.

 

Hitch didn’t show up to detention. There was no way it wasn’t deliberate, and Annie had to wonder how she was feeling. It was likely a bitter pill for Hitch, to be given what she wanted in such a way. She’d be royally pissed at Mikasa. And at Annie by association.

In gym class they began their co-ed ping pong unit. A couple days of practice followed by a three-day tournament of sorts, no prize but glory. Hitch and Mina had won it in Annie’s gym class last year. Annie wondered how they would have fared if Mikasa had had the same gym period.

Mikasa and Annie claimed each other as partners immediately. They were then free to play mock games against other pairs. Mikasa tugged on Annie’s arm and led her into the lion’s den.

“We wanna play you,” Mikasa said to Hitch.

Annie clutched her paddle tight.

 _No_ _we don’t,_ she didn’t say. She met eyes with Mina. Her fidgeting told the same story.

“Fine,” Hitch said. “You can practice getting your asses handed to you before the real thing.”

“We’ll see.”

They parted ways at a ping pong table.

“Are you sure about this?” Annie asked her.

“It’s already done. Let’s just win this quickly.”

Annie felt sweat forming at her hairline. If she failed here, Mikasa would hate her. No one likes a loser. Certainly not Mikasa Ackerman. Annie doubted she could play at her best, somehow working in tandem with the girl she was crushing on mercilessly.

_Just don’t be a dumbass._

Hitch served first to Annie’s side. She bounced the ball a couple times on her paddle, then let it drop on the table and whipped the paddle so fast that Annie barely saw the ball on her side until it was almost too late. She hit it back and it just rolled over the net so that neither Hitch or Mina could return it.

Hitch scoffed at that. “Cheap shot,” Annie heard her say.

Annie and Mikasa smiled at each other.

Hitch had other killer serves in her arsenal, but Mikasa and Annie got adjusted to them. Still, they rallied back and forth and lost the first game. Annie looked to Mikasa, whose face looked calm, placid, but somehow determined.

A new game and Annie’s turn to serve. She wasn’t very good at it, the first couple times, and Hitch and Mina racked up points from Annie’s weaker serves, stealing another game. Annie looked at Mikasa again. Her brow was knit tighter, her mouth set in a firmer line.

New problem: Mina’s turn to serve. Because for such a nice, meek-seeming girl, Mina Carolina was terrifyingly good at ping pong, the aggression of each of her swings whipping across the table full tilt at Annie and Mikasa. With Mina’s first ace, Annie knew it was over. The ball, each time, would bounce off the very edge of the table at Olympic speed. Mikasa and Annie could barely keep up.

And how could moving so little work the body so much? Mikasa’s chest heaved, but it didn’t make sense. Annie’s breath was rougher, but Mikasa’s endurance…No. Mikasa was overwhelmed by something else.

Hitch fed on her pain like a demon. Though she didn’t say anything, her taunts came through in her relaxed figure, in her self-assured, congratulatory smile.

Annie could feel something happening every time she screwed up in front of Mikasa. Predictably, Mikasa would get more and more gloomy, but also…worse? She missed easy shots, and the ones she didn’t miss she hit out of bounds. But the worst came when Mina sliced the ball at Annie, so fast that she had to bring her paddle in front of her, deflecting the little white ball harmlessly into the net.

A slam, and Annie found Mikasa had thrown her paddle to the ground. It hadn’t been a game point, but the strain was unbearable. When Mikasa stooped to recover the paddle and Annie ducked down with her.

“I’m really sorry. Let’s get out of here,” Annie whispered.

Under the table like they were, Mikasa’s face was shadowed, dark eyes shone at Annie’s suggestion.

Forgetting all her nerves surrounding Mikasa, Annie took her by the elbow and led her out the gym door that came to a deserted stairwell.

“It doesn’t matter,” Annie said.

“No, it—”

“It doesn’t. Nothing does. Aliens could come and kill us or we could kill ourselves with nukes. Nothing fucking matters, not even a practice game of ping pong against someone you hate. Rock,” Annie said, throwing out her fist.

Mikasa stared.

“Paper,” Annie said, bringing her hand up and down slowly until Mikasa raised her own hand.

“Scissors.”

Mikasa cast a rock, and Annie switched to scissors as quickly as she could.

“There,” she said. “One to zero, Mikasa Ackerman. Again.”

Mikasa cast scissors, Annie opened her hand to paper.

“Good. Amazing. Two to zero, Mikasa Ackerman.”

A smile was emerging on Mikasa’s face, going along with Annie’s game, eager to see the end.

Mikasa cast rock last, and Annie saw the chance she didn’t know she was waiting for. She laid paper over Mikasa’s fist gently, keeping her hand there.

“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t,” she said softly. “I just…I don’t get why paper covering your rock feels so bad.”

She squeezed Mikasa’s hand, then dropped her own, face reddening as she realized how inappropriate it was.

“Sorry,” Annie mumbled.

_What the fuck did you do that for? Try to comfort her. Not freak her out._

After a pause long enough that Annie could hang herself with it, Mikasa said, “I’m really the worst at losing.”

“You mean you’re number one even at that?”

“Honestly…yeah.”

They shared a small laugh and when words failed them, the bell punctuated their time together.

 

The locker room always felt like a frenzy of girls trying as fast as they could to go home, just short of sprinting for the door. But Mikasa and Annie were languid and found upon shouldering their backpacks that they were almost totally alone.

“I had a moment…” Mikasa said, and Annie waited to hear about her slamming down that paddle. “Just, a second ago as I was getting dressed, I thought I’d need to change into my cheer uniform.”

“Oh.”

“But I turned in my uniform to the coach on Friday.”

Annie nodded. There was nothing she could say.

Mikasa looked up to the ceiling. “I’d rather have burned it.”

“Yeeeah, but that’d put you out like 50 bucks, right?”

Mikasa looked down and smiled, only a little. “You’re about right. Thinking about this with a clearer head than me.”

“Any time.”

Mikasa put her fist out, prompting Annie to do the same. But before she could get out the word “rock,” Mikasa covered Annie’s hand.

“We dressed without thinking,” Mikasa said. “Let’s do a break from Muay Thai today, alright?”

Annie nodded, at once crestfallen, and Mikasa headed off, leaving Annie staring at her hand.

She’d go home that day to lay back on her bed and wonder—arm stretched up, fist opening from rock to paper to scissors on a loop—what the hell was that about?

 

Tuesday was Monday in fresher clothes. Running early morning, hiding nerves around Mikasa, hiding nerves when Mikasa was nowhere around, eating in the library, hiding, practicing ping pong and Muay Thai, hiding, hiding, hiding in hell.

 _Try not to think about it,_ she thought, and thought about it harder.

If Annie only faced eyes forward, in math, at lunch, during ping pong, Mikasa could become a forgotten blur on her periphery. Why not do something else? Give her brain a break? She did want to make it a point, this year, to practice drawing outside of class, but her notebook yielded only pages and pages of a too familiar real-life magical girl.

Wednesday began to feel like more of the same, only with the nagging worries that presented themselves as the ping pong tournament and the art club. Performing well alongside Mikasa, and facing Jean Kirschtein: it turned out she’d have to do both at the same time.

“Fucking fuck,” Annie muttered when Shadis announced the first round of the tournament.

Mikasa hummed as they stepped up to their table. “Just hit the ball at Marco. You think that sweetheart is any good at this?”

“Don’t forget what Mina’s like,” Annie reasoned.

Mikasa’s eyes dulled. “I haven’t.”

“Ah.”

Their match just had to start on that note. They shook hands with Jean and Marco, the tension only building between the four.

Jean served first, to Annie, and out. She hoped it was her angry gaze she’d been leveling on him. But to be honest, the bite had gone out of her for the most part. Jean would never have Mikasa.

Mikasa flashed a grin and a wink at her.

Annie would never have Mikasa.

Nothing mattered. Not aliens or nukes, just like Annie said.

With these harsh assertions, her nerves faded. Jean was like a mess in her place, and Marco was no Mina. It was a devastating sweep, the girls beating the boys point after point.

“Pathetic,” Annie muttered upon shaking Jean’s hand, and he laughed in the understanding that she’d forgiven him in her own way.

“Art club today?” Jean asked, looking from Annie to Mikasa and back again.

Mikasa pouted. “I forgot you had that. We have to get up extra early tomorrow, ‘kay?” Her hand rested lightly on Annie’s upper arm. Annie just nodded, and Mikasa left them with a wave.

“Up early?” Jean asked.

Annie shrugged. “Secret.”

“Ah. You two seem really…”

Annie’s face stagnated into a panicked grin.

“Like best friends,” Marco said.

“Yeah,” Jean said. “Super close.”

“Uh-huh,” Annie said. “Right. See you in a minute.”

If Annie’s affections were known, even if they were misconstrued as platonic, what else could others see? How long could she last, even under casual scrutiny? Above all she longed to hold herself at an objective distance from this relationship. But there was no objectivity while she was at the heart of this, touching Mikasa, Mikasa touching back.

She took it as a boon that Mikasa was gone by the time she reached the lockers. No chance for Annie to spy a lacy bra or a tantalizing streak of pure skin.

 

Art club brought a dangerous, perhaps stupid, idea. Ymir and Historia…they were perhaps the only ones she could turn to now. God knew she couldn’t talk to Mikasa about it, and this was definitely out of Rosie’s league. She’d have to find a way to get them alone. Was she really doing this? She had to _think_ first. Give herself time. But she wanted so desperately to talk.

“I changed the pills to goldfish,” Ymir said, shoving her art in Annie’s face.

“Oh. Nice.”

In Ymir’s drawing, the hand reaching for pills was now attached to a girl whose hand reached off the page for floating goldfish. It was only a sketch, but it was already surreal and beautiful.

“I’m still calling it ‘Dealer’ though,” Ymir said with a grin.

Historia showed Annie her drawings of flowers. She had printed references of real flowers, mimicking them with incredible detail and accuracy.

Jean was in the process of coloring his tiger drawing. “I decided to make the tiger blue and green. That way if I fuck up no one will notice. It’ll just be a weird tiger.”

“Good idea,” Annie said.

She flipped through her sketchbook. Her robot was in here somewhere. She froze when she got to her drawings of Mikasa but quickly flipped past those pages and laid out her work.

“Oooh,” Ymir went. “Spicy.”

_Fuck._

“Hush,” Historia said.

Annie flipped to the magical girl and robot hybrid drawing. Everyone seemed to like it, including Petra who had just walked in. “I can’t wait to see what you do with the composition,” Petra said.

Soon, they got back into their work, and Jean asked Petra for help with something. That’s when Ymir spoke up.

“Hey, Annie.”

“…What?”

Ymir leaned in conspiratorially. “You still all buddy buddy with Mikasa?”

Annie blanched. “N-no.”

“Ahaha! What is it about cheer captains? Something in the water?” Ymir said.

“Yim, stop,” Historia said, nudging her.

“We’re friends,” Annie said, her voice weak.

“Really.” Ymir snatched up Annie’s sketchbook.

“Hey!”

But Ymir was already turning to the pages and pages of Mikasa.

Annie covered her face.

“Looky here…”

Historia ripped the sketchbook out of Ymir’s hands and closed it. “That’s enough, Ymir.”

“Did I miss something?” Jean said.

“Nothing,” Historia said. She handed the sketchbook back to Annie.

“I have to go,” Annie said, getting up clumsily.

“Annie?” Petra said. It had gone under her radar too.

She looked around. Marco had been sitting there the whole time but wasn’t paying attention (she hoped). Jean was clueless, but Historia and Ymir were staring…

Annie shoved her stuff in her bag and got all the way out in the hallway until Historia caught up to her, catching her by the sleeve.

“Ymir’s an asshole,” Historia said.

Annie leaned against the wall. This was the conversation she’d been hoping for, after all. “Yeah. She is.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I…don’t know what to do.”

“About Mikasa?”

“She’s probably…straight or something.”

“Sometimes these things work out. Sometimes they don’t. For now…just wait. Maybe get some time away so you can think?”

Annie nodded. It was sound advice. “I hate being around her now.”

“It gets better. They say it gets better. It’s kind of our thing, actually.”

“I’ve heard that.”

“And it’s true. You’ll be okay, Annie.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Don’t worry about Ymir. She won’t tell anyone,” Historia said.

“If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure. I do know her pretty well.” Historia smiled.

“How do you do it?” Annie asked. “When everyone hates you?”

Historia shrugged. “I have a feeling you already know.”

Even with the whole world against her, Historia had a lover who’d take care of her no matter what.

“But I don’t have Mikasa,” Annie said. “I might never. Why would she ever like someone like me? In that way.”

“Someday you can think about asking her that. For now, relax. Avoid her if you really need to, but build a friendly relationship with her. Make it strong.”

“But that’s the thing. I’d be building it all on a lie. Ulterior motives,” Annie said.

“I don’t think that’s it. You want to be around her. That much is true. You just want more in the relationship. Maybe it’s more than she wants, but when you tell her, if you choose to, your friendship can be strong enough to weather that.”

“Okay.” But Annie was dubious.

“Trust me. I’m one of the school’s leading lesbians. I know these things.”

“Thanks, Historia. I’ll think about what you said.”

Historia put her hands in her pockets and walked backward toward the art room, then turned. “I’ll see you later.”

Annie walked home in the cold. They were one foot into October and it already felt like it could snow any day now. It seemed that the world was rendered in greyscale. Black crows milled about on telephone wires, cawing and croaking their omens to anyone that would listen. Annie wished she knew what they were talking about.

So now people knew. Annie didn’t know how to feel about that. She trusted that other lesbians could keep a secret though. But them knowing made the situation more…real. And she’d just referred to herself as a lesbian. Was that what she was? It was all happening so fast. She wondered again if the dream was just a fluke. She wished she could pull the dream she had out of the world. But where would she dispose of it? With all the dreams that were forgotten by the time she sat down to breakfast? With all the nightmares that brooded always at the back of her mind?

 

“Here,” Hitch said. “We can walk to gym together.”

“Uh…”

Post-detention time. Friday. One or the other usually hang back in the classroom to _avoid_ walking together. But there was no avoiding Hitch today. Annie and Mikasa would play her and Mina in the Trost Co-Ed Period Eight Ping Pong Championship. Such bullshit.

“Mikasa’s put me in a tough spot,” Hitch said casually. “But it isn’t easy for her either.”

“Right. Cheer was a big thing for her. I don’t really get it though.”

Hitch sighed. “Well, that’s why I don’t get why she stopped. She won’t be able to go to college.”

“What?” Annie stopped in the middle of the hall. “What do you mean?”

Hitch walked on, glancing back with a devilish smile. “No more cheer scholarships! Think her uncle can afford Sina U? Gosh! Hope you’re worth it, Annie!”

Annie stared after her. She knew Hitch had saved this information for right before their final match. It was intimidation. Something to throw Annie off. It was working incredibly well.

 

“So what’s going on with you?” Mikasa asked in the locker room.

Annie looked away. “Dunno.”

Annie had been quiet all day. She wouldn’t reveal her feelings through her words, but her actions could take care of that.

“It’s not just nightmares,” Mikasa said as she opened her locker. “People get over nightmares quickly. This is something else.”

Annie nodded. “Something I can’t tell you…And other stuff.”

Mikasa took off her shirt, making Annie lose the numbers to her combination lock.

“Well tell someone,” Mikasa said and pulled on her gym shirt. “We gotta focus. And win.”

“If we lose, it’s my fault, okay?” Annie said soberly.

Mikasa let a pause happen before driving the heel of her palm into Annie’s forehead, not exactly gently. “That’s silly. If we lose, it’s my fault for not pumping you up.”

Annie rubbed at her forehead. “You can’t pump up something with a hole in it.”

“Patchwork, then.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Ready?” Mikasa said before they headed into the gym. In the final round, everyone from both classes would be watching their match.

“Yeah,” Annie said with a weak smile.

Mikasa walked with her and patted her on the shoulder. Annie ached to be touched longer but of course said nothing of it when Mikasa removed her hand.

Hitch and Mina were already at the ping pong table, chatting. Then Hitch turned, sizing her up, sizing up Mikasa. Her nose had long since healed up completely, and Annie found she wanted to break it all over again. Maybe her paddle could fly out of her hand by accident and whack Hitch in the face. She didn’t have much time to think about it. They shook hands and determined that Annie would serve first.

She steadied her breathing and held the ball between her thumb and forefinger, staring at it. Hitch was the receiver. Annie looked up for a moment to see her smiling. Shaking her head, Annie bounced the ball on the table, then hit it with all the force she could muster. It landed in the far corner, fast enough that Hitch swiped at it awkwardly and was unable to get it over the net.

The crowd cheered. Or, at least, the boys did. It became clear that most of the girls would root for Hitch and Mina, since a ton of them were cheerleaders. There’d been a feral attitude toward Mikasa all week.

At any rate, the boys cheering for her was a great way to get the match going. Hitch put a hand to her head and walked off for a second, coming back angry. Annie looked to Mikasa, who hopped up and down like a little kid.

_Fucking cute._

_SHIT._

_FOCUS._

Annie served to Mina, who hit the ball at Mikasa. She hit it right back, and Mina sort of panicked, hitting the ball with the wrong part of her paddle and sending it above Mikasa’s head. Mikasa went to get the ball. When she handed it to Annie, she said, “We have them scared now,” and winked.

A suggestive wink.

_She’s not suggesting anything, dumbass._

Annie served out of bounds. Then she did it again. Hitch smirked. The boys in the crowd groaned for her while the girls congratulated Hitch and Mina. Annie felt her cheeks flush red.

She tried to quell her growing mortification and served successfully, if weakly, to Mina. A rally ensued, until the ball came back to Annie, her paddle swiping just above it.

She’d blown it.

It was hard to look at Mikasa then. Hard, but necessary. To see the damage.

Mikasa chewed the inside of her cheek. She didn’t return Annie’s gaze.

_I’m gonna commit fucking seppuku._

Hitch served next. Her style was fucking douchey, her short returns causing Mikasa and Annie to dive and fight in order to get the ball back across. Annie was willing to destroy herself to make up for losing the very first game. Despite Mikasa saying she’d blame herself, Annie felt she’d be resented if she humiliated them here.

She willed herself into a calm, focused state. Hitch’s serves weren’t impressive, and Annie saw the girl’s agitation increase as Annie and Mikasa racked up points.

At game point, Hitch and Mina lagging a bit behind, Mikasa gave Annie one brief nod, as if to say, “You’re receiving. You have this.”

Warmed by Mikasa’s confidence in her, Annie watched the ball’s journey. A bounce from Hitch, her paddle connecting, the ball coming across hot and fast, straight to Annie’s forehand.

Child’s play.

Annie sliced it back. Hitch did not.

Pretty laughable, the difference in Mikasa in losing or winning a game. She beamed now, charged up and ready to win more.

And why wouldn’t she? It was her turn to serve.

The crowd roared upon Mikasa’s flawless ace. She didn’t gloat outwardly, her composure like stone. She didn’t even pause to revel. She served again. Another ace.

The crowd was revved up, Mikasa totally undaunted.

 _Teach me how to do that. How to not care,_ Annie thought.

Mikasa dropped the ball to the table, and Annie was certain—as Mikasa likely was—that it would be yet another ace.

Hitch dove for the ball, far from her reach. Annie swore her paddle missed it by a centimeter.

Naturally, the crowd lost its collective mind. The boys started chanting “Mikasa,” which seemed at last to have an effect on her.

Mikasa Ackerman was blushing.

Annie held her paddle up to hide her smile. It was so adorable to see a goddess like that falter, stoked by a crowd cheering her on. If they won this point, if they got an ace, they’d have two games won to Hitch and Mina’s one.

Mikasa pushed through it. But her serve came out average—okay, maybe above average—and Mina sent it right back. Mikasa hit the ball back hard, unchallenged.

Mikasa laughed, bouncing again, and enveloped Annie in a sweaty hug.

“Almost perfect, right? And just one more game,” she whispered in Annie’s ear.

_Shit._

_SHIT._

One more game, but Mina was serving. One more game, but Mikasa had just hugged Annie, her warm breasts pressing just below Annie’s mouth.

“I…” Annie said, but it was lost in the rowdiness of the crowd.

Mikasa was none the wiser, settling back into position: crouched, weight eagerly shifting from foot to foot, paddle held like a weapon. She paused to brush away the hair sticking to her forehead. Annie wanted to melt.

Mina’s turn, serving to Annie. She peeled her eyes from Mikasa and tried to focus on the little white ball held in Mina’s fingers. Still, the ball came at her quicker than expected, and she was forced to contort her arm to even touch the ball. She got it back over, and it bounced high on the other side, causing Hitch to back up and whack it over to Mikasa. Instead of another powerful retort, Mikasa sent the ball back gently, just barely getting over the net. Hitch and Mina both went after it in vain. Mikasa gave Annie a cheeky little shrug.

_Super fucking cute._

The rest of that game didn’t go smoothly. Mina delivered two ace serves in a row. Annie looked over at Mikasa who was about to receive. Her face was stony, and Annie saw a glint of determination in her eyes as she squatted, shifting from foot to foot again, faster. Mina’s serve came as Annie was watching her. She saw Mikasa spring into action, hardly a wasted movement in the flick of her arm. Annie was at attention now, watching as Mina drove the ball down the center line.

“Got it!” Annie and Mikasa said at the same time. It was too late to stop themselves and try to figure it out. Their paddles collided. The crowd oohed. When they missed yet another serve by Mina, the boys fell into a collective grumbling and the girls hollered. With that, they’d lost the game.

Fucking hell, Annie had to serve again. She had to end this quickly. With that in mind, Annie hit the ball as hard as she could. Mina received, hitting the ball sloppily so that it went way out of bounds.

Annie just had to do this three more times to secure a win. It was at precisely that time that she began to overthink things. It was nothing about table tennis though. She was thinking of Historia and of what she’d said to her. Get away from Mikasa for a while. Give herself some time to think. It would be easy. All Annie had to do was write her less notes, avoid her on the weekends with some random excuse. Making she could get out of Muay Thai practice.

Then, she hit the ball a thousand feet out of bounds. Next, her paddle missed the ball by a mile. Before she knew it, Hitch was whispering to Mina, who nodded and looked at Annie, determined. In the next rally, it was obvious they’d decided to direct the ball at Annie exclusively.

Annie ignored the dangerous energy Mikasa began to radiate. Because way too fast, Hitch and Mina needed only one more point to steal the whole match.

Annie’s stomach lurched as she brought her fists to her forehead.

“Annie,” Mikasa said. “Look at me.”

Mikasa took her by the shoulders, holding Annie at arm’s length.

“Whatever you’re thinking about,” Mikasa said, “stop. There is only this one game left. There’s no other… And I believe in you.”

“O-okay,” Annie stammered.

“Do your best.”

Kindness. She hadn’t expected it, Mikasa’s words sinking in as she calmed down.

_My best. No one has seen my best in years._

_Guess it’s time._

Annie’s next serve was an ace, and the serve after that was so hard that Mina could barely return it, causing Annie to smack it back just over the net. Now they were at deuce.

Annie would have to serve to Mina to get advantage, which would bring them one point away from the end. The end of the tournament. Annie served the ball. It went out. The crowd murmured. Annie tried to ignore all the eyes on her. She remembered what Mikasa had said and went to serve again. This time, it was good. Mina returned it, and Mikasa swatted it right back at her. Mina hit it again, this time to Annie, who hit it to Hitch. Hitch hit it into the net and cursed, looking ready to throw down her paddle. Annie grinned. She couldn’t believe it. All she had to do was serve to Hitch now, who had totally lost composure.

 _Don’t think about Mikasa,_ Annie thought. _Mikasa doesn’t matter. She doesn’t even have to hit the ball anymore if you serve this right._

Annie let the ball drop on the table and looked across the table at her opponent. Hitch was ready. Annie served and watched in slow motion. The ball, sailing a half inch above the net, going far, far across the table. Would it go out? No, it just barely hit the table’s corner. Hitch backed up and predicted the ball’s trajectory. She went after it. The ball hit Hitch’s paddle at a bad angle, but still it went over the net. Over, over, and Annie and Mikasa both backed up as it went between them. It sailed over the court. And out.

The crowd erupted. Annie was dragged back into the fast pace of the cheers and fist-pumping of the boys, into Mina and Hitch’s despair, into Mikasa’s arms as she was pulled into a fierce hug.

“You did it, Annie!” Mikasa said into her ear.

As they separated, Mikasa held out a fist. Mistakenly, Annie covered it.

_Paper._

Mikasa shook her head.

_Ah. Failed the fist bump._

“We need to celebrate,” Mikasa said.

Annie smiled. “We should,” she said but then remembered her promise to herself: she wouldn’t hang around Mikasa any more than was necessary. She had to cut her off.

“A sleepover,” Mikasa said. “Tonight.”

“Yeah,” Annie heard herself saying.

_What? Fuck… NO!_

“Sure,” Annie said. “Sounds good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're all invited to my slumber party.


	14. Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>  
> 
> [I love Mizore <3](http://politicallyactivevampire.tumblr.com/post/184089895789/acerinky-i-finally-finished-annie-and-rosie-in)
> 
>  
> 
> ~~~~~
> 
> “Oh, hell yes. Mario Kart?” Mikasa said, turning to smile evilly at Annie.

“Great!” Mikasa said. “I think we can weasel out of Muay Thai again. Your place?”

“Okay,” Annie said, heart dazed. Soon she was shaking hands with a downcast Mina and a seething Hitch. That’s right. They had won their game, hadn’t they? It seemed like that had been important to Annie. ‘Til a moment ago.

Annie was going to sleep in the same room as Mikasa tonight. Not before spending the whole night sitting up and talking. What was she thinking? Who would think this was a good idea?

Friends can have sleepovers. Friends have sleepovers all the time. But in her life, Annie had had very few friends and even less sleepover experience. She collected the clichés: nail painting, hair braiding, pillow fights. She couldn’t see any of that happening with Mikasa. It wasn’t real.

Back in the locker room, Mikasa wasted no time in stripping off her shirt. Annie locked her eyes forward.

“I’ll be there at seven,” Mikasa said, pulling on her sweater. “If that’s okay.”

“Yeah that’s…that’s okay.” Why shouldn’t it be okay? Annie was going to pretend it was okay even if it killed her.

“Awesome. See you then.”

“Yeah.”

A hand ghosted across Annie’s back, Mikasa’s long slender fingers trailing gently. The touch disappeared as Mikasa walked on.

Annie got changed and walked home. As she was walking, she noticed a bundle of crows in the trees above her, cackling. Smart creatures. Maybe they were laughing at her.

 

“Rosie. Guess what.”

“What?”

“Sleepover tonight. Mikasa’s coming over soon.”

“Yaaaay!”

“We have to clean my room.”

“We?”

“It’s a two-man job.”

“Get two men to do it then.”

“Stop acting like me. It’s creepy. You can stay up late with us if you help me now.”

“Okay!”

They threw all of Annie’s scattered videogames and anime DVDs onto the bed. Rosie organized them—there were loose discs all over the place—and Annie vacuumed her floor (she couldn’t remember the last time she’d done so). She even reordered the unwatered succulents sitting on her desk, dusting around them and picking up school-related papers that were stacked there. It all took less than two hours.

“Are we done?” Rosie asked, motioning to the piles of games and DVDs.

“I dunno. Did you do a good job?”

“Everything’s in the right everything,” Rosie said.

Annie laughed. “Okay. Good. Let’s move them by the TV.”

They picked up the stacks and plopped them next to the boxy little TV that laid on the floor.

“I guess we’re good,” Annie said. She checked her watch. “One hour...”

Annie sat down on her bed and fell back, the cleaning high leaving her system.

_Tired._

Annie felt Rosie’s weight straddling her on the bed. “Are you okay?” her sister asked as she tried to force Annie’s eyes open with her fingers.

“Ack! I dunno. I kinda wanted to avoid Mikasa for a while. Figure out my feelings.”

“Huh? What do you feel?”

“It’s complicated, Rosie.”

Rosie scoffed. She didn’t do it often, but Annie always found it cute.

“You can tell me! I’m old enough!”

“Hardly. I’ve already said too much.”

Rosie pouted, but it wouldn’t work this time.

“Sorry, chickadee. It’s a total secret. Let’s do some of our homework for the weekend now, okay?”

Rosie frowned. “Okay. I don’t know why you get nervous every time people come over though.”

The first time Mikasa came over, she had Annie’s clothes from when Hitch and the others stole them. The second time, Mikasa had destroyed Annie’s ankle, and they watched _Cat Soup._ Now, Mikasa being here was commonplace. Maybe that’s what made it scarier.

“Maybe that’s just who I am now,” Annie said. “Come on. You’re not escaping the homework train.”     

Time passed quickly. Just as they were finishing with Rosie’s dreaded math homework, the doorbell rang.

“That’s her,” Annie said. She looked with fear to Rosie, who gave her an encouraging smile.

Annie went to the living room and opened the door. What greeted her was a Mikasa laden with gear. She had a backpack on, stuffed to the brim it seemed, a blanket, a sleeping bag, and a pillow. Before Annie could wonder if she walked all the way here carrying everything, Levi’s car pulled out of the driveway, sputtering.

“Hey,” Mikasa said.

“Hey. Come in.”

Mikasa walked a few steps into the living room before Rosie was upon her, wrapped around her legs, threatening to topple her.

“Whoa. Hey, Rosie.” She dropped her stuff right there. It was as good a place as any. “What’s up?”

“Annie made me clean her room and do homework!”

Mikasa gasped. “Did she really?”

“Lies!” Annie said. “She cleaned my room with me. And I helped her with her homework more than I should have. I practically did all of it.”

Rosie shook her head. “I can do homework on my own!”

“I’m sure you can,” Mikasa said.

“Okay,” Annie said. “Sleepover stuff. Rosie’s gonna stay up with us.”

“All night!” Rosie said.

“We’ll see about that,” Annie said, grabbing Rosie’s cheek. Rosie squirmed away, giggling.

“Are you gonna make it to midnight, Rosie?” Mikasa asked.

“Yeah!”

Annie was thinking. “I’m sorry we don’t have many snacks tonight. But I can make some popcorn. Wanna start with _Pokémon_?”

Rosie nodded, bouncing on her heels. Annie went to make the popcorn. She heard the _Pokémon_ theme begin playing and Mikasa laughing at something. It really felt just like the day Mikasa tackled her and ended up here. When the popcorn was done, she poured it in a big bowl and brought it to the living room. As per usual, Rosie plunged her entire arm in, coming out with a fistful that she shoved in her mouth.

“Barbaric,” Annie said.

“The best popcorn is—”

“At the bottom. We get it.”

They watched Team Rocket “blasting off again” four times. Annie wondered if Mikasa was getting bored of this, but she didn’t want to be rude by asking and putting Mikasa on the spot.

“You tired yet, Rosie?” Annie asked.

“No! It’s not even bedtime.”

“Really? Do thirty push-ups then.”

“You know I caaaan’t,” Rosie moaned.

“Ha. Weak. Mikasa can do thirty, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you do thirty with Rosie sitting on your back?”

“Hmm. I can try.”

“Let’s do it!” Rosie said.

“Okay,” Mikasa said with a rare, shy smile. She rolled up her sleeves, revealing her hard-earned muscles. Before Annie could tell her it was just a joke, Mikasa laid on her stomach on the floor, and Rosie situated herself on Mikasa’s back, crosslegged. Mikasa put her palms on the ground and pushed up, straightening her arms. Effortlessly, she lowered herself back down.

“One…”

Rosie laughed.

“Two…Three…”

Annie watched with growing fascination. Rosie was pretty heavy. Annie had trouble picking her up lately, but it seemed easy enough for Mikasa to have her weight on her back.

“Twenty…twenty-one…”

Mikasa showed signs of slowing now but kept her pace relatively steady. The muscles in her arms rippled in a way that made Annie bite down on her lip.

“Twenty-eight...Twenty-nine…”

Mikasa grunted for show, setting Rosie off laughing again.

“Thirty!” Mikasa collapsed, though she didn’t need to.

Rosie applauded, Annie joining in after her stupor wore away. Rosie got off, and Mikasa stood and bowed with grace. She had barely broken a sweat. Annie didn’t admit that she herself was sweating, just a little. That was fucking hot.

“What do you wanna do now?” Annie asked.

“You have videogames, right? Can we go play something?”

“Sure. In my room.”

They went to Annie’s bedroom, and Mikasa squatted to look at her stack of games. Annie tried not to look at her butt. Just like that, she was flooded with unwanted desires, remembering the kisses shared in a dream that could never become reality.

“Oh, hell yes. Mario Kart?” Mikasa said, turning to smile evilly at Annie.

“If you’re ready to eat my dust. I have a third controller somewhere.”

Annie dug through her desk drawers until she found it, a Nickolodeon orange Gamecube controller for the guest of honor. Mikasa turned on the game. Rosie was already sitting at attention, way too close to the screen.

“Back up, Ro.”

Rosie scooted back a couple inches. Annie picked her up by the armpits and dragged her back a solid foot. “There we go.”

Annie’s Mario Kart was Double Dash, two characters to a car. She chose to play as Yoshi and Luigi, Mikasa took Bowser and Birdo, and Rosie took the princesses.

“You hardly have anything unlocked,” Mikasa said.

“That doesn’t make it less fun.”

“I’ve unlocked everything.”

“That’s very Mikasa of you, you know?”

Mikasa smirked. “Shut up.”

“Been forever since I’ve played,” Annie said. “Mushroom Cup?”

“Sure.” Mikasa then changed the CC to 150.

“Uh uh. No way. We’re playing easy for Rosie’s sake.” Annie switched it to 50 CC, the lowest speed.

“Sure. Rosie’s sake,” Mikasa said.

First game of four in the tournament: Luigi Circuit, a simple race track with a Chomper, speed boosts, and not too many places for Rosie to crash. Easy.

The screen split into four, a screen for each of them, and a fourth showing the computer players. The air in Annie’s little room changed as soon as Lakitu appeared, bobbing on a cloud with his little stoplight to countdown the start of the race. Annie and Mikasa burst off, leaving Rosie and the computer players far behind.

Mikasa jumped just in front of Annie, and although Annie passed her several times, Mikasa always pulled past by a hair. Plus, Mikasa was wily as hell. Whenever Annie got a red shell, Mikasa would drop behind her just when Annie threw the item forward. It was maddening. Mikasa was seriously keeping an eye on Annie’s screen? And still winning?

Bitch.

Mikasa sat between Annie and Rosie, affording Annie chances to elbow her in the ribs. After Mikasa jabbed back once, hard as hell, Annie laid off.

It was infinitely satisfying to smack Mikasa with Luigi’s fireballs or an egg from Yoshi. Mikasa’s affronted scoffs fueled Annie. Still, Mikasa won in the end.

Silence as the scoreboard filled out.

“Go ahead and be smug,” Annie said from second place.

 “I’m holding out ‘til I come in first place every round,” Mikasa said casually.

“Oooh meh meh meeeh I’m holding out ‘til I come in first place every round,” Annie mimicked back in a weird voice.

“Childish,” Mikasa said. “You’re a child.”

“Hm,” Rosie said.

The next course was Peach Beach. Lots of places to crash: into water and into those weird bird creatures running around. In trying to beat Mikasa (and failing), Annie dully registered Rosie getting rescued by Lakitu several times.

Mikasa won by an even larger margin.

Sure, it was kinda cute seeing Mikasa all quietly blissed out, but it was still aggravating. Annie clutched her controller harder, cool silver plastic long since turned sweaty and hot in her hand.

The next track was Baby Mario and Luigi’s little course with seven laps.

“This one’s for Rosie,” Annie teased. She didn’t notice that Rosie didn’t respond.

Lap after lap, Mikasa pulled ahead, Annie getting scared. The course was so small, and Mikasa was so good. Annie was gonna get lapped.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Annie whispered so Rosie couldn’t hear.

“Believe it,” Mikasa said.

“Calm down there, Naruto.”

One course left, the desert track chock-full of obstacles from flowing sand, bendy cactus things, and dust tornadoes. Annie would have to pull out all the stops, heightening her focus and making tight turns ‘til Mikasa was dethroned.

Annie got through one and a half laps ‘til she passed Rosie’s cart, stopped dead in the middle of the track.

“You okay, Ro? Hold down the green button, alright?”

No answer.

Annie leaned forward to see past Mikasa. Tears streaked Rosie’s face. How long had she been like that?

Annie didn’t bother pausing the game, telling Mikasa to keep playing as she walked over to sit behind Rosie and hug her.

“I’m…bad at this.”

“No, no.”

 _I’m bad at this,_ Annie thought. _I’m a bad mom._

“You have little hands,” Annie told her. “These controllers were made for big hands.” She put her hands on the controller Rosie still held.

“When you’re older you’ll even be able to beat Mikasa. It’ll be real easy.”

Mikasa wore a placid smile as she let the sisters have their moment.

Annie steered while Rosie hit the gas. She made sure to crash once to show Rosie it was okay to mess up. Soon Rosie was giggling enough for Annie to feel better about not noticing her mood earlier.

“Rosie Rosie Rosie! Press X now!” Annie said. They’d gotten the best item, the blue, winged shell that would pursue the player in first and detonate in a huge explosion.

“Don’t you dare,” Mikasa said. She had the finish line in sight.

“Dare,” Annie whispered.

The shell sped out, unavoidable even for Mikasa. Bowser and Birdo got engulfed in a blue nuclear blast just feet from the finish line. A computer-controlled cart passed the wreckage to steal first place.

“WE WON!” Rosie and Annie shouted at each other.

Rosie stood and hopped and hopped, chanting, “We won! We won! We won!”

Annie leaned back on her hands and watched her, eyes trailing back to Mikasa.

“I…You didn’t…” Mikasa said before closing her eyes and smiling. Perhaps she realized how silly she was being. “Congratulations. It was very close, wasn’t it, Annie?”

“By a hair,” Annie said, looking to the scoreboard flashing on the screen. In seventh place, she and Rosie had gained a total of six points to Mikasa’s thirty-eight.

Annie was sure to play the awards ceremony scene showing Mikasa’s team with a silver trophy.

“I’m over it,” she said at last. “You have Smash Bros?”

Annie stretched her leg out and toppled her tower of videogames. “Nope.”

Because there was no way she was gonna play Smash against such a monster. The fact that Mikasa asked to play meant that she had years of practice.

“Rosie’s sleepy,” Mikasa whispered.

Rosie’s head was hung forward where she sat in front of the TV, game controller still in her hands. Annie poked the back of her head, and Rosie sat up with a start.

Annie laughed. “Getting tired.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yah-huh. Wanna get to bed?”

“Nah.”

“Lay on my bed for a bit, then. Rest a little.”

“…’Kay.”

Rosie would be out like a light in seconds.

“Any more sleepover activities planned?” Mikasa asked.

“Oh. I…don’t really know?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“I’ve never really…hosted my own sleepover before?” Annie said, worry catching in her throat, eyes pinned on Mikasa’s reaction.

“Oh. Okay.”

The silence wasn’t something Annie was equipped to survive.

“I went to Sasha’s birthday slumber party once in like first grade. I think my…” She trailed off.

“What?” Mikasa asked.

_I think my mom arranged it._

“Nothing. Just a pity party.”

“…Didn’t you have fun?”

“No. There were tons of snacks so I put a bunch of candy in my pockets and for some reason ate it all in the bathroom. Then I felt gross and I missed my mom. So I snuck out and walked home without telling anyone.”

“That’s ridiculous. Did you do that kind of stuff a lot?”

“Not really. Maybe if I got invited to more stuff after that, I would have. If I remember right, I made Sasha cry. My mom was mortified. She got on the phone with Mrs. Braus and apologized a ton and said I was safe home.”

“Kids,” Mikasa said succinctly.

“Tell me about it,” Rosie answered groggily.

“I can tell you won’t abandon this sleepover,” Mikasa said to Annie.

Annie rubbed at the back of her neck and looked off. “Well it’s my house so…but yeah. This has been fun.”

She didn’t have to see Mikasa to know that made her beam.

“I…” Annie began. “I kind of had a sleepover one time. With Bert and Reiner.”

“Ooh. Tell me.”

“There’s…I went to Bert’s to hang out with them, sometime in junior high. Um…both my parents forgot me?” Her voice tensed, but she pushed past it. “Soooo, I kinda hid in the basement with them since Bert’s parents didn’t think I was still there. Then Reiner got his mom to bring over his sleepover stuff so we…did that. It was the most fun I ever had with them.” She smiled. She didn’t need it to be a bad memory anymore.

“That’s fun. I never got to do sleepovers with Eren and Armin.”

They began to talk about everything and nothing, going deep and shallow into any topic they could.

 _So this is what happens at sleepovers,_ Annie thought.

“I’m gonna change into my pajamas,” Mikasa said at last.

“Okay.”

She went into the bathroom with her backpack. She came back out a minute later in the cutest pajamas Annie had ever seen. Her shirt was a grey croptop with a pink elephant on it. Her pajama pants were pink and stopped just below the knee.

 _So_ this _is what happens at sleepovers…_

“Uh. You’re not gonna be cold in that, are you?” Annie asked. She could see Mikasa’s belly button, never mind the ridiculous abs.

“I’m fine,” Mikasa said.

 _Me too,_ Annie thought. _Is my nose bleeding?_

“I guess I’ll change too.” Annie couldn’t outdo the cuteness of Mikasa’s outfit. All she had was blue flannel pajama pants and a plain black t-shirt that hugged tight to her hips and chest. When she came back out, Mikasa’s eyes flitted up and down her body. She must have imagined it though.

Rosie groaned from the bed and rubbed at her eyes.

“Time for sleep?” Annie asked.

“Nnnnnn…”

“Come on. I’ll carry you, big girl.”

“…’Kay.”

Annie hefted her in her arms and took her to her own bedroom.

“Where’s Mikasa?” Rosie said after burying herself in bed.

“I’m here,” Mikasa said, leaning against the doorway.

“Goodnight,” Rosie murmured.

“Goodnight.”

Annie kissed Rosie’s forehead. “Sweet dreams.”

Rosie closed her eyes. Annie turned out the light and shut the door gently.

Mikasa stared at Annie for a beat before heading back to Annie’s room. Suddenly, Annie felt jittery. Without Rosie as a buffer, they were alone.

“So,” Mikasa said, sitting on the bed. “You just take care of her? All the time?”

“Yeah.” Annie sat with her. “My dad does the grocery shopping and takes her to and from school, but that’s about it. And really, I write the grocery lists and tell him to fill the car up.”

“Wow. And you’ve been doing this a long time?”

“Yeah. Pretty much since my mom bailed.”

Mikasa nodded. She looked far away in her thoughts. “Now that we’re alone…”

“What?” Annie’s heart doubled its pace.

Mikasa smiled with a mischievous look that Annie had never seen on her face before. She went to her backpack and pulled out a bottle, about half full.

“Vodka?” Annie said, sitting up.

“Yup. Straight from Uncle Levi’s liquor cabinet.” Mikasa opened it and sniffed. “He won’t miss it,” she said when she saw the worried look on Annie’s face.

Annie wasn’t worried about getting in trouble with her uncle. What she was worried about was that she’d get drunk and confess her feelings to Mikasa in one way or another.

“I’ll have a little,” Annie said.

“We need glasses.”

Annie went to get them, giving herself time to think about what she was doing. She’d just have a little bit, she warned herself. Just a small taste. And since she wouldn’t like the taste, that was about all she’d have.

“Let’s play a drinking game,” Mikasa said.

 _Oh, fuck,_ Annie thought. _Mikasa plays to win._

“Have you done this before?” Annie questioned.

“Maybe...”

“Okay. What do we play?”

“Have you heard of Never Have I Ever?”

“Yeah. You’ve done the thing, you drink?”

“Yeah.” Mikasa poured a little vodka in both their glasses. “You hold up five fingers and put one down if you’ve done something. I’ll start. Never have I ever…made out with somebody.”

Neither of them drank. They laughed.

Annie thought for a moment. “Never have I ever been kissed.” Mikasa drank. Annie did too.

Mikasa paused long enough that Annie thought she’d forgotten it was her turn. Then she said, “Never have I ever kissed a girl.”

Annie stared down at her drink and looked up to see Mikasa sipping, eyes glued to Annie.

“Really?” Annie said.

“Yeah. I can’t talk about it though.”

“You can’t just… _Really?_ ”

“Really,” Mikasa said. “Your turn.”

The words burned in Annie’s head. Mikasa had kissed a girl before. Who? More than one? She bet it had happened at a party. Probably as a dare, she reasoned. Probably nothing. Probably…

“Uh,” Annie said. “Never have I ever had sex.” Neither drank.

“Never have I ever gotten drunk,” Mikasa said, drinking when Annie didn’t.

“You’re gonna make yourself lose,” Annie said.

“Sometimes it’s the goal to get drunk. So let’s just talk and drink whenever we want.”

“Alright.”

“I’m excited about our fight club. Are you?”

The truth was, Annie had nearly forgotten they were forming a club, what with her new-found lesbianism and all. They’d been doing their morning runs, but they’d ditched a lot of practice in Levi’s garage.

“Yeah,” she said. “It’s gonna be great.”

That brought a smile to Mikasa’s face, and she took a swig of vodka. “Yeah. We’re gonna get a ton of people. Everyone’s tired of the same old football and shit.”

Annie had to agree. The school’s dedication to football was exhausting. And the closest thing they had to a fight club now was the boys’ wrestling team.

“Yeah,” Annie said. “I think a lot of people will be interested.” She took a drink. Somehow, her cup was almost empty. Mikasa noticed.

“Top you off?” she said, filling both their cups.

“I _hope_ people join the fight club. But barely anyone is in art club, so that’s kind of worrisome.”

“That’s just because Petra didn’t advertise it,” Mikasa reasoned. “You haven’t even put up the flyers, right? Speaking of art club: How’s Jean?”

Annie snorted. “Jean’s good. Glad we got past the whole dating thing.”

“Yeah,” Mikasa said. “What a damn fool. He could have had Annie Leonhardt.”

“What?!” Annie said. “The only thing he did wrong was go after the hottest girl in school.”

“You’re the hottest?” Mikasa asked, amused. “Annie, I didn’t think you had such a conflated view of yourself.”

“…I meant you.”

“Oh.” Mikasa looked into her cup, as if searching for something.

The gravity of Annie’s slipup crashed into her. “I mean, at least relatively. Like you’re way…better looking than me. Of course Jean would choose you. Anyone would…” She let her voice trail off. There was no coming back from this faux pas.

Mikasa looked up at her, something mysterious alive in her eyes and smile.

Annie hated how hot her own face had become.  
At last, Mikasa spoke. “Some people say I look alright, and I get hit on a lot. But I really don’t get it.”

“Really? Uh, I mean…”

“Really,” Mikasa said. “So for now I’ll just ignore people like Jean Kirschtein. Who needs them?”

Annie nodded, horror brewing in her head. Was this a reaction to Annie inadvertently calling Mikasa beautiful? How would she react of Annie came right out and said it? If Annie…

She took a gulp of vodka. What was it they said about erasing memories with drink? It sounded good to Annie. Maybe Mikasa would drink up as well, forget everything.

“But seriously, Annie,” Mikasa said after a long silence. “I don’t think you’re an ugly person or anything. Not at all. In fact…” Mikasa reached up and took off Annie’s glasses. Annie’s world blurred, erasing any expression she could see on Mikasa’s face.

“Yeah,” Mikasa said. “You look nice. I can’t really decide if I like you better with or without. Either way, you’re good.” She resettled Annie’s glasses on her face and tucked a stray strand of hair behind Annie’s ear. Annie sat there, trembling and wide-eyed. Mikasa’s hand had just barely grazed her cheek, the feeling electric to her skin. Annie’s fingers came up to chase after Mikasa’s ghost.

“I…” Annie began.

Mikasa brought her glass to her mouth. “Sorry…”

Annie drank too, and when they paused for breath, she started talking about anime. They recovered, easy with each other once again.

 

It was getting late. Annie had lost track of how many times her drink had been refilled. She picked up the bottle, much of the vodka already depleted.

“Starting to feel it?” Mikasa said.

“Yeah.” A pleasant buzz. The world had become ripe with possibilities. All she had to do was reach out and grab them.

“I wonder if my dad even knows you’re here,” Annie said suddenly.

“If he hasn’t even been out of his room…”

Annie nodded. “Yeah. I guess I’m lucky he keeps to himself. Not like any conversation he’d have with you would be all that stimulating.”

“Annie,” Mikasa said, looking away. “What the hell…happened?”

“What…happened?” Her brain was slowed by the vodka. Must have been, but she could almost realize what Mikasa was getting at. Something bad. Something she didn’t like to talk about.

“To your parents. To your mom,” Mikasa said.

“Oh…” There it was. But Annie found herself willing to spill the whole story. “Well, my mom had a back injury at work. Kinda bad. And they gave her these pain pills and she got addicted pretty quick.”

Annie rubbed her hand up and down her arm and paused. “I mean, you already know. It led to other stuff. You wouldn’t think it would happen to her. If you’d known her before her injury.”

She glanced at Mikasa, who nodded for her to go on.

“I guess I don’t know what I’m talking about. I was a kid. But I’ve seen videos of the old her. I’ve heard stories. She was…a good person. A happy person, I think. Responsible, even. But it was those stupid pain pills. And then the really bad stuff. I mean that’s just how it always starts. Prescriptions.”

She ran a hand through her hair and looked up to see Mikasa, still waiting patiently. “She wasn’t herself for years and years. Dad and her fought constantly. She was always out of her mind on something, or not here at all. The last time she left us was like all the others. Just…took me a few months to see it was permanent. She’s not coming back from… There’s no coming back.”

“I see,” Mikasa said. “So Rosie doesn’t know anything?”

“Nah. I remember my mom got clean when she was pregnant with Rosie, or a little before. But after that…it was a nightmare. Rosie doesn’t have any memory of her, thank God. But she misses her. Maybe worse than I miss her, since she doesn’t know how _bad_ she was. A little girl will miss her mother, you know?”

Mikasa peered over her glass at Annie. “Yeah. I think any girl’d miss her mom.”

Annie paled. It wasn’t supposed to come out that way.

“Sure,” Annie said. “You know, no one that young can comprehend all that bullshit. Now I just feel angry. I’m trying really hard to not feel angry…at her. I should just be angry about…whatever they call it. Doctors screwing people over with drugs that make patients feel too good. It’s all so…stupid.” Annie had felt her voice rising but couldn’t stop it. Her last word, though, came out as almost a whisper. She blinked away tears. Annie had so rarely talked about this. She remembered the guidance counselors at her junior high trying to crack her open, dig the feelings out. But Annie didn’t _feel_ anything at the time. It was almost like she’d deleted her emotions. It had worked for a while.

“I’m sorry, Annie,” Mikasa said. “That’s horrible. And your dad just…”

“Checked the fuck out.” Annie sniffed.

Mikasa took a gulp of alcohol. She repositioned herself on the bed so she was facing Annie better. “I guess I owe you one.”

“What?”

 “You know.”

“No really. What do you owe me?”

“A story. A really bad one.”

“Oh.” Annie had an idea of where this was going. She was frightened but nonetheless intrigued.

“You were wondering that day at my house. How my parents died?”

“Sure,” Annie said.

Mikasa gazed at her intently. “It’s okay, Annie. Anyone would wonder. It’s only natural. I moved here in sixth grade, so most people don’t even know that my parents are dead. Even fewer people know how.”

Annie gulped. “If you don’t mind telling me…”

“I really don’t. I was nine. And I was there when it happened.”

Annie looked away. To witness your own parents’ deaths? She couldn’t imagine.

“It was late at night,” Mikasa began. “Raining hard. I was in the back of the car, listening to my parents talk. They sounded worried. For the longest time I couldn’t remember what they were talking about. My dad was driving, mom in the passenger seat. There’s not much to say, really.”

But Mikasa looked like she’d fall into whatever she said next. She paused, shook her head, and took a deep breath.

“We swerved, and light…” She gulped. “Light from an oncoming car—” a darting glance at Annie “—filled everything. The next thing I remembered was that I was sitting outside a car with a police officer. I wasn’t really hurt, just knocked around a bit, and I was wearing a shock blanket. I knew somehow that my parents were already dead. I don’t know if someone told me or if I just _knew._ ”

Mikasa lowered her voice now, as if she didn’t want the words to still be true. “I never saw their bodies after that. The funeral had closed caskets. Probably their bodies were too…messy.” Mikasa grimaced at the word. “So my last memories of them were just the backs of their heads, their voices. I was sent to live with some relatives across the country. Until they put me with my Uncle Levi. We eventually moved to Trost.”

“That’s horrible,” Annie said. “I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what else she could say.

“Right,” Mikasa said. “But that’s not the full story.”

 _What else could there possibly be?_ Annie thought. She waited for Mikasa to continue.

Mikasa drew in a shaky breath. She had handled the story of her parents’ deaths with more grace than Annie could have, but now she began to struggle, breath shaky and haphazard. Annie put her hand on Mikasa’s knee.

“You don’t have to,” Annie said. “It’s okay.”

Mikasa shook her head hard. “But I do. It’s important. The reason my parents were driving that night. I heard it from my Great Uncle Kenny a couple years ago. Uncle Levi didn’t have the guts to tell me why his brother died.” She said it with such bitterness that Annie knew she’d have to steel herself for what Mikasa said next. Mikasa took another gulp of vodka and continued. “Why they were driving that night, driving so fast in that rain. My Uncle Levi was younger then, in his twenties. He’d overdosed. Some damn stupid thing like that got him into the ER. Apparently it was pretty serious this time. My parents both wanted to see him right away and didn’t have time to find someone to watch me.”

“But your uncle became your guardian anyway?”

Mikasa sighed and took another drink, then refilled her glass. “He cleaned up fast. See, getting his niece’s parents killed was something of a wake-up call for him. Gotta hand it to him, he insisted on raising me and didn’t relapse. Not once. It’s like your mom when she was pregnant with Rosie. Except he…”

“He stayed clean,” Annie finished.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry, Annie. I shouldn’t have compared.”

“No, no. It’s fine.”

“I was….fucking furious with Uncle Levi. And everyone else. Guess no one wanted to tell me that my new guardian was pretty much the reason my parents died,” Mikasa said, and even now Annie saw a large part of that anger coming out. Mikasa shut her eyes and clenched her fists, trying with difficulty to get her rage under control. “I’m trying to be grateful for the things he’s done right, but things haven’t been good with him,” she said quietly, “these past…stupid years.”

“Mikasa…”

“He quit fighting. All those styles he knew, the karate, Muay Thai, boxing. Everything. He could have been something big. It was all fucking killing him though. I don’t know what about it made him want to dope up. But that all ended. When my parents were killed.” She finished her vodka, then picked up the bottle. “It’s almost empty.”

“Oh.”

Mikasa stood up and walked zig-zaggedly to her backpack. Annie stood too, under the same dizzying effects of the vodka. She placed her empty cup on the desk.

“What are you doing?” Annie asked.

“I thought I brought more,” she said, digging deep.

“Is that a good idea?” Annie asked. She sat back down, feet dangling off the bed.

“Shit. I didn’t bring it.”

“For the best.”

Mikasa climbed back on the bed and put her head in Annie’s lap. “Hey. I told you about the Fermi Paradox, right?” Mikasa asked.

_I could stroke her hair. It’d seem totally normal._

“You told our whole math class. Why there are no aliens around,” Annie said. She raised her hand to hover over Mikasa’s head before deciding against it.

“Like what the fuck?” Mikasa said. “Where are they? Why don’t they fucking beam me up?”

“Why are you swearing so much?”

“Cause I’m kinda drunk. And mad. It’s all kinda hitting me at once.” Mikasa paused and chuckled to herself.

“What?” Annie said.

“You’re sooo dumb, Annie. Lay down with me.”

“Why?” she asked. Mikasa sat up to let her lay on her side. They faced each other, inches between them. “Why am I dumb?” She was trying to figure out how drunk they both were. She had a feeling that Mikasa had either drunk a lot more than her or was worse at holding her liquor.

“You’ll find out,” Mikasa said with a smile. “You’ll all see.”

“All?”

“Everything!” Mikasa said, hiccupping.

“…Okay.” Annie smiled. They were so close right now. Annie could reach out and move the hair out of Mikasa’s face if she wanted to. It wouldn’t even be weird. But something stopped her: the thought that her sober self would probably consider that to be _very_ weird. So Annie held herself back.

“So the aliens,” Annie said, trying to get a coherent conversation out of Mikasa.

“The aliens either don’t care about us, or they don’t exist. Shit. I don’t like either of those options.” Tears welled up in Mikasa’s eyes, falling sideways down her face as she laid there.

“Mikasa, don’t. I think the aliens are somewhere. And they’re just watching for now. But they care about you. A lot.”

“They do?” Mikasa said, wiping at a tear caught on the bridge of her nose.

“Yeah. They do,” Annie said, smiling. She pulled Mikasa into a hug with one arm, Mikasa’s head pressing into Annie’s chest. Annie tried to ignore that Mikasa was now drowning in boob. Mikasa didn’t seem to mind. She said something muffled that Annie didn’t catch.

“What?”

Mikasa pulled away from her. “You’re so fucking… warm.” With that she buried her head in Annie’s chest again. Annie looked around to see if there were any hidden cameras. But drunk Mikasa was a snuggly mess with no apparent boundaries. Mikasa stayed like that for so long that Annie began to wonder if she was asleep. Annie sat up and poured herself some more to drink. She was gonna need to catch up to Mikasa, after all.

“We should drink water,” Annie said when Mikasa sat up.

“Mmhm.” Mikasa leaned her head on Annie’s shoulder.

“I’ll go get it,” Annie said, moving away so suddenly that Mikasa cried out and almost fell down. When she got to the darkened kitchen, she poured water to drink for herself then and there. Mikasa’s drunken attachment was something to be reckoned with. Did it mean anything? Mikasa’s usual flatline of emotion was gone. Even before drinking anything, Annie had noticed this in Mikasa in the past week: her emotions were more evident. She was opening up. Annie glugged down her water. Opening up. That was good, right? Annie didn’t know. What had happened to her resolve to stay far away from Mikasa?

“Annieee!” she heard Mikasa call from the bedroom. Shit. Annie filled a glass of water for Mikasa and went back to her room before Mikasa woke everyone up.

“Here,” Annie said, shoving the water into Mikasa’s hands. “Drink. Now.”

Mikasa giggled. “Why so serious?”

Annie allowed herself a brief smile. “Just don’t want you to be hungover tomorrow. Drink up.”

“Okay, okay.” Mikasa chugged the water. “Can I have more vodka now?”

“No, but I can,” Annie said, holding the bottle out of Mikasa’s reach and pouring herself the last of it.

“Mean Annie…”

“That’s me.”

Annie put on an anime movie. She let the English dub play so they wouldn’t struggle to read subtitles. They barely spared a glance for the TV, instead continuing to lie on Annie’s bed and stare at the ceiling.

“I have no idea what’s happening with this movie,” Mikasa said halfway through.

“ _Paprika._ It’s kind of a total mindbender anyway, even if you are watching.”

“Okay.”

Annie sat up half-asleep when the credits rolled. The music faded as the least important names rolled up on screen, hundreds of them that she would never recall or even read in the first place. She stood on wobbly legs and went to turn the movie off. She was really and truly drunk, something she never thought she’d experience so soon. It made her happy. Giddy. Mikasa was breathing quietly, eyes closed. They fluttered open when Annie laid back down.

“Hey,” Mikasa whispered. Annie smiled, shutting her eyes.

Memories faded in and out, piecemeal. Their foreheads touching, Mikasa’s breath on Annie’s mouth. _It would be so easy,_ Annie thought. One of Mikasa’s arms was draped over Annie, her hand resting on the small of her back. She looked into Annie’s eyes, an expectant expression on her face.

Annie should have laid her hand on Mikasa’s hip, touching the exposed area of skin under her croptop, making Mikasa shiver. She should have pulled her closer. She should have held her into the morning. Instead, Annie got scared. Mikasa was super drunk. Annie was super drunk. Anything they did from here couldn’t be accounted for in the real, sober world.

“Should we be doing this?” she asked quietly.

Mikasa stared at her, a sudden air of sobriety taking over. “I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry,” Annie said. She drifted off before hearing Mikasa’s response. It wasn’t how she wanted things done. She wanted to explain, though she didn’t know what she would have said. Maybe she was afraid that Mikasa’s feelings weren’t true, that she was just fooling around, not knowing the meaning of her actions in her hazy moments of drunkenness. It wasn’t a fooling around for Annie, but how could Mikasa know that? How could she know Annie’s blooming feelings if Annie kept her mouth shut tight? How long could they continue this way in Annie’s one-sided pining?

 

When she woke, the first impression she got was one of cold, empty space. Annie reached out, not finding the warm body she’d lain with. She sat up. Pain seared her skull, a punishment for last night’s excess, no doubt. Mikasa was curled up in her sleeping bag on the floor, Annie on the bed. She remembered her last words to Mikasa. It seemed Mikasa had taken them to heart, moving away from Annie as best she could. Annie had successfully rendered Mikasa’s tender touches into nothing. She threw herself back onto her bed and groaned.

It all meant nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowburn with me a while longer.


	15. Star Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie looked from Mikasa to Rosie to Mikasa again, her mouth hanging open. Rosie grinned, while Mikasa looked at her with a subtle smile. It seemed her eyes were seeing something Annie couldn’t, something omitted from Annie’s line of sight when she looked in a mirror. At any rate, Annie shook her head.
> 
> “You guys are crazy,” she muttered.

Pain growled in her belly. Outside light carved its way through her eyeballs, piercing her brain. Annie got off her bed and tried to think things through. She teetered over Mikasa, sleeping on the floor. Had Annie rejected her last night? Had there been anything to reject, or had she horribly misread the situation? She lurched out of the room. Coffee. Fucking coffee.

Rosie was already up, eating cereal at the table.

“Hey,” Annie said.

“Was it fun?”

Annie thought of their foreheads touching, of Mikasa’s breath drifting in and out, so close as to touch Annie’s lips.

“Yeah. It was.”

“Where’s Mikasa?”

“Hung—I mean, she’s sleeping. She’s asleep.”

Rosie eyed Annie suspiciously but said nothing.

Annie prepared herself a coffee, trying to act normal while she sorted through her memories of last night. There were so many blacked-out spots, so many drifts in and out of sleep. And she couldn’t just ask Mikasa. The conversation was essentially finished. There was no going back.

Her drink ready, Annie downed a few Aspirin, and brought the coffee back to her room. She sat on the edge of the bed, looking down on Mikasa sleeping. It wasn’t creepy, was it? Okay, it was a little creepy. She sipped at her coffee, feeling the pain of being awake slowly ebb away.

By the time she was finished drinking, Mikasa started to stir.

“Eurgh…my head.” Mikasa propped herself up on an elbow, looking at Annie with bleary eyes. Even here she was lovely.

“You might not wanna sit up so fast,” Annie said, but Mikasa was already upright, clutching at her head woozily.

“Man…” Mikasa said. “This sucks.”

Clearly Mikasa had gotten the worst of it this morning.

“I’ll get you water.”

 “…Thanks.”

When Annie returned, she could see Mikasa was suffering from the way her eyes were clenched shut. She opened them slowly at the sound of Annie’s footfalls and accepted the water.

“I feel awful.”

“You look worse, if that’s any consolation.”

“It’s really not,” Mikasa said, a spike of aggravation in her voice.

Annie smiled at Mikasa’s irritation turned on her. Cute.

“Mikasaaaa!” Rosie called, loud enough to raise the dead.

“Ah!” Mikasa put a hand to her forehead.

“Not so loud now, Rosie,” Annie said.

“Why not?”

“Mikasa has…a headache.”

Rosie pouted as she tried to sort out the situation. Her eyes locked on the empty bottle of vodka, proudly displayed on Annie’s desk.

“What is this? Did you guys get drunk?!” She went to pick it up, smelling it.

“Rosie…” Annie warned. “You can’t tell anyone. And lower your voice.”

“I can’t believe you two!” Rosie said in a half whisper. “This is really bad.”

A small laugh sounded from Mikasa. “Don’t worry about us, Rosie.”

“I thought you were supposed to be really smart or something,” Rosie said to her. She looked to Mikasa as if she had betrayed her.

“Grown-ups are allowed to do dumb things. Sometimes. It’s part of being an adult,” Mikasa said. She sipped at her water.

Rosie just scoffed and marched out of the room. She had had enough of them.

“Feeling better?” Annie asked.

“A little.” Suddenly a look came over her face. “I need to go…to the bathroom.”

Annie nodded and got out of her way in a hurry. Mikasa ran down the hall to the bathroom, retching into the toilet. Annie waited for her in the hallway. When she came out, Mikasa was pale.

“You okay?”

Mikasa sighed. “That made me feel a little better. But my head…”

“Yeah.” Annie went into the bathroom and found Aspirin, pouring out several tablets for Mikasa. They went back to Annie’s room, Mikasa accepting the pills with gratitude and taking them with her water.

“Lay on the bed,” Annie told her. “I don’t know why you went to your sleeping bag in the middle of the night.”

“Oh…I was cold,” Mikasa said. She avoided looking at Annie, biting her lip.

Annie nodded. That croptop wasn’t made for warmth, after all. She didn’t know if that was the full truth, but she didn’t push it. It would be so easy to ask, to say, “about last night…” But Annie was a coward when it came down to it. So she didn’t say anything.

“Um, I’ll make you some breakfast. That should help your stomach. Lie down.”

Mikasa obeyed, lying on Annie’s bed and finding her way under the covers. Annie had to ignore how adorable Mikasa looked with the covers up over her mouth. Her eyes looked so sleepy. Knowing that she was staring, Annie headed for the kitchen.

Rosie was sitting at the table again, arms folded.

“I’m gonna make bacon and eggs, okay?”

“Hm.”

“Get over it, Rosie. Teenagers get drunk all the time.” She pulled a carton of eggs and the box of bacon from the fridge. She’d make the bacon first and cook the eggs in the leftover grease. Turning on the burner, she said to Rosie, “You’ll see when you’re in high school.”

No answer. Annie waited for the skillet to heat, then laid three pieces of bacon down. They sizzled in a delicious way, making Annie aware of how hungry she was.

“You had cereal, right? Want anything else?”

Rosie sighed. “Two bacons. One egg.”

Annie nodded, putting a cover on the skillet as the bacon cooked. She turned to Rosie, who watched her guardedly.

“Was it fun?” Rosie asked. “Being drunk?”

Shrugging, Annie said, “Kinda. Though I guess Mikasa’s regretting it now.”

“Good.”

Annie laughed. “I don’t know why you’re so hung up on this.”

Rosie glared at her. “Because it’s dumb.”

“It is what it is” Annie said. She turned back to the bacon, poking at it with her spatula. Annie put the lid back on and prepared more strips to be laid down. She left the stove, sitting for a moment across from Rosie.

“But no one got hurt.”

“Mikasa got sick.”

“She’s getting better,” Annie said. “Just resting now.” She went back to the stove, putting the bacon on a plate covered with paper towels. She drained some of the excess grease and started with three fresh slices of bacon.

She peeked in on Mikasa a couple times. She was snoring softly. Annie lamented that she’d have to wake her up. Her face was so relaxed while she slept, all the worries of her life vanished.

Rosie was already eating her bacon.

“You couldn’t wait for the eggs?”

“Nuh-uh.” A strip of bacon hung from her mouth like a lizard’s tongue.

When Annie got the bacon finished and plated, she made three eggs, accidentally breaking the yolks and pretending she wanted scrambled eggs all along. She salted and peppered them, distributed them on the plates, and carried hers and Mikasa’s to the bedroom.

She nudged Mikasa, who woke slowly to the smell of the food. She sat up, her bed hair something to be seen. Annie couldn’t help smiling.

“Smells good,” Mikasa said.

“How’s your head?”

“A little better.”

Annie placed the plate on Mikasa’s lap. Mikasa cut into her scrambled eggs with her fork, lifting a bite to her mouth. “Really good eggs,” she said after a moment.

“Really? I just made them how I always do.”

Mikasa shook her head, swallowing a mouthful. “They’re perfect.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Annie dug into her own plate, loading her fork with eggs and bacon.

They ate in silence, Mikasa finishing quickly.

Mikasa inhaled like she was about to say something, then remained silent.

“What?” Annie asked.

“Can I…stay for a while?”

“Of course. I don’t wanna make a hungover girl walk home in the cold.”

Mikasa smiled. “Thank you, Annie. I wasn’t…too weird last night, was I?”

“…No,” Annie said. “I like…you being here. Don’t worry about anything.”

Mikasa nodded, a curious look in her eyes. “Okay.”

They sat there for a moment, Annie’s head racing. Maybe this was as far as they’d get. Ever. Annie tried to give it one last shot.

 “So…what do you wanna do?” she asked.

“I think I could go for some _Pokémon_. Watch something I don’t have to think too hard about.”

“Oh.” Mikasa had misread her words. Annie had meant to ask her what she wanted to do about last night. She let it slide though. Maybe they weren’t meant to talk about this. “Okay,” Annie said. “Let’s go to the living room.”

They resettled themselves on the couch, Mikasa with a blanket draped around her shoulders. Rosie joined them.

“ _Pokémon_ , Rosie?” Annie said.

“Pika?”

“PIKA!” Annie said back.

“Okay but...” Rosie began and looked to Mikasa. “Are you better?”

“For the most part,” Mikasa said with a warm smile.

“I mean, you won’t throw up on me or anything?” Rosie asked.

“Rosie!” Annie said. “Show some compassion.”

“It’s okay. I’m done throwing up,” Mikasa laughed.

“Good.” Rosie sat next to her, tugging on the blanket ‘til she and Mikasa were both wrapped in it.

“Rude, Rosie,” Annie said.

“You don’t get any!” she said and stuck out her tongue. Mikasa copied her.

“Fine, fine,” Annie said, sitting as far from them as possible.

A few episodes went by. Mikasa was right: they didn’t have to think too hard to follow along. She must have been feeling better, judging by how she and Rosie began talking about Pokémon battle strategy. When they finished the DVD, Annie asked what she wanted to do next.

“I don’t know,” Mikasa said. “I brought some stuff from Mr. Smith’s class we could study together.”

Rosie appeared crestfallen. “Study?”

“That’s right,” Annie said. “We can help a little with your math too, Rosie.”

“Aw, man.”

They moved to the kitchen table, spreading their notebooks and papers about. Mikasa had a way of chewing on her pen when she was thinking. Annie spied on her. With how much Mikasa thought and worried over her grades, the pen could be chewed to nothing by finals time. Mikasa looked up once, shyly taking the pen from her mouth. It took less than a minute ‘til it was stuck between her teeth again.

They went over what they’d learned in the past month, Mikasa filling in gaps for Annie as Rosie struggled with fractions, her eraser darkening the space on her worksheet.

“It’s really hard for both of you, isn’t it?” Mikasa said.

Annie nodded. “But I make sure she gets top grades. Unlike me.”

“All my friends are better than me…” Rosie grumbled.

“That’s okay, Rosie,” Mikasa said. “Your friends are there to help you.”

Annie blushed as Mikasa looked to her.

Rosie nodded. “Yeah. I have good friends.”

“Right,” Annie said. “Despite being so shy, she’s friends with tons of kids.”

“That’s good,” Mikasa said. “Any boyfriends?”

Rosie blushed. “I’m seven.”

“So no?”

“So no,” Rosie said. “But I made a new friend this year. And he’s a boy.”

“What’s his name?”

“Tyler. He’s kind of mean sometimes, but that’s what makes him funny.”

“Oh, I see. So he’s like your sister?”

Annie laughed. “Can’t believe that’s what you think of me.”

“Yes you can.”

“Tyler likes drawing,” Rosie went on, “but he’s not as good as me.”

“Rosie’s training to be better than me at drawing by the time she’s ten,” Annie said.

“Annie’s really good!”

“I know,” Mikasa said. “I’ve seen some of her stuff.”

Annie shifted in discomfort. Taking compliments was not her strong suit.

Mikasa noticed. “Come on. You know you’re good.”

“I mean I guess…”

“Annie’s all squirmy,” Rosie said.

“Oh yeah? I’ll tickle you and we’ll see who squirms.”

“You two are cute,” Mikasa said.

Annie blushed. She knew Mikasa wasn’t _really_ calling her cute, but still.

“Annie’s not cute,” Rosie said.

“That’s right,” Annie said. “I’m scary.”

“No,” Rosie said. “You’re pretty.”

“Yup!” Mikasa said. “She _is_ pretty.”

Annie looked from Mikasa to Rosie to Mikasa again, her mouth hanging open. Rosie grinned, while Mikasa looked at her with a subtle smile. It seemed her eyes were seeing something Annie couldn’t, something omitted from Annie’s line of sight when she looked in a mirror. At any rate, Annie shook her head.

“You guys are crazy,” she muttered. Mikasa and Rosie shared a laugh at her expense.

“Are you staying for lunch, Mikasa?” Rosie asked.

“I’m sure she’s sick of us by now, Ro.”

“No, I can stay if you don’t mind. What are we eating?”

“Uh…”

A loud series of bangs erupted from the front door.

“The hell?” Annie said, going to answer.

Levi stood on the other side, fist raised to pound out more noise.

“HI,” he said, packing all his ire into one syllable.

“Welcome…to my home?” Annie said back.

He folded his arms. “Are you two really ditching? Again?”

Mikasa appeared. “We were thinking of going over later.”

Her voice was chilly, and Annie couldn’t help but recall Mikasa’s reasons for her attitude.

“Are you gonna take this seriously or should I give up?” he asked.

Rosie came to cling to Annie’s leg, burying her face or staring fearfully at the stranger. Annie put her hand on her sister’s head.

“We can go over now,” Annie said.

Levi nodded. “Give me your sleepover stuff,” he said to Mikasa.

“What? Why?”

“You two are jogging over. I’ll bring your shit home.”

Mikasa placed a hand to her forehead, thinking about her hangover, as Annie was.

“Fine.” Mikasa marched off to Annie’s room.

“Your sister?” Levi said.

“Yeah. Rosie, Levi. Levi, Rosie.”

Rosie’s face pressed harder into Annie’s thigh. Levi appeared more bored than offended.

In moments, Mikasa was thrusting her stuff into her uncle’s hands. She’d changed into a cotton long-sleeved tee and shorts she’d apparently stuffed in her bag.

“See you later,” she said.

“Be there in twenty-five minutes or I lock you out.”

Rosie tugged on Annie’s hoodie. “Daddy’s not home.”

“Shit,” Annie said. “Can’t leave her alone.”

“I’ll take her,” Levi said. “Kids love me,” he deadpanned.

Rosie relinquished her hold on Annie.

“No, it’s—” Annie began in defense of Rosie’s shyness.

“It’s okay,” Rosie squeaked.

Annie shrugged. “I’ll get changed.”

After stripping down to her bra and panties she hunted through her closet for a warm enough jacket. She was subjected to the view of herself revealed by the closet door’s fullview mirror.

Thin. Way too thin. Arms nothing, legs so lacking in definition they looked 2d. It would take forever to get halfway close to the physique of Mikasa. How much time? Month? Years? And the work, side by side with a girl she’d never be able to impress. Annie imagined herself lifting three-pound weights while Mikasa lifted ten times that. Embarrassing.

Annie dressed, shrugging on a light jacket and lacing up her gym shoes. She went back out to the living room, surprised to still see Rosie and Levi there. Mikasa knelt to Rosie’s level.

“My uncle’s really not scary. He just looks mad naturally. The doctors tried everything to fix it.”

Rosie nodded, stealing a glance at him as he rolled his eyes.

“You have twenty-five minutes starting now,” he told his niece.

Mikasa looked at her wristwatch and nodded. “We’ll be there.”

Rosie gave Annie a tiny, tight wave and took Levi’s hand. His eyes widened for a moment before his mouth twitched and he led her away.

“Twenty-five,” he warned.

“Whatever,” Mikasa said flatly, but she was already bouncing, eager to arrive at their destination with time to spare. They stretched in silence. The muscles in Annie’s legs had more give, allowing her to bend further. The ache was becoming a comfort, knowing that each push made her that much more flexible.

“I’m gonna set a hard pace today,” Mikasa said when Annie locked the door behind them.

“Right.”

Annie made a face, thinking, _Not like my body can take it, but I’ll do it until it can._

“You should bring music,” Mikasa said as she put in her earphones.

“Nah. Silence is fine.”

But it wasn’t silence. It was the pounding of her shoes against pavement, the swish of fabric, her own breath labored more and more until finally she could let it all out at the finish line. Music would only distract her.

This though. This was the worst run Annie had ever been on, at least for the first five minutes when the pounding of her feet seemed to jar her aching head, her stomach roiling from the bouncing. This was it. Annie was going to die.

Yet she’d be damned if she was going to ruin Mikasa’s regimen. Levi’s irritation at their failure would only enrage Mikasa.

As time passed, the pain receded. Annie felt well enough to steal glances at Mikasa and sometimes, admittedly, dropped behind her for a moment. She stared- not pervertedly- but, rather, enviously. The sculpting of her body was proof enough of God. Annie’s mind erupted in all different directions: Greek goddesses languidly pouring urns of water; Persephone, the lovely springtime goddess pursued by the king of the underworld; Aphrodite born nude and perfect from the foaming sea, destined to be named the fairest. Annie looked down at her own body, each strained movement willing a slow metamorphosis to take place. She could never match Mikasa. But she could be better than herself.

“Made it,” Mikasa said at last, ripping out her earphones to stroll up to her door.

Like it was nothing.

Annie doubled over, dying. The next time she did it, she reminded herself, it wouldn’t feel like hell.

The first thing Levi did when they entered the kitchen was check his watch. No comment followed, not that Annie expected a congratulations.

Rosie sat at the table coloring.

“You can bring that into the garage,” Levi said to her. She looked up with wide rabbit eyes before nodding and sliding from her chair.

Training was brutal today. After Annie worked through jabs and crosses on the bag, it was Mikasa’s turn. Worn out, Annie was on her way to the couch.

“Push-ups ‘til failure, Annie,” Levi said as he watched Mikasa’s technique.

Annie’s mouth went slack. What she’d just done amounted to a fuckton of cardio, mostly working her arms. No use arguing though. She got down and did her push-ups in the form Mikasa had recently instructed her in.

‘Til Failure. Annie was able to do twenty-six. She rested for a minute, then Levi gave her a glance she could easily read as, “Now, again.”

When Annie was back on the bag again, Levi got in her face.

“What? You’ve forgotten your jab? That’s the easiest technique. Most important too. You can’t jab, you can’t fight. Don’t stop. I didn’t say stop…Okay, stop. Your doing it wrong is pissing me off.”

His lightning quick movements dented into the bag. Annie tried to follow.

“Got it?” he said.

Annie nodded. Her next jabs were good enough that he didn’t insult her. She began to see his silences as an odd sort of praise, at least a quiet neutrality.

Push-ups again, Mikasa led through increasingly complex chains of movement on the bag.

“No, no,” Levi said. “You think you can help teach _her_ when you don’t know this yourself?”

“I can do it,” Mikasa said, “if _you_ knew how to teach it.”

“Hm. You seem like you’re having trouble focusing today. Feeling off?”

A flinch of surprise graced Mikasa’s face before she buckled down. “I’m fine.”

“Really. You know you both reek of alcohol. It’s on your sweat.”

Annie paused in her push-ups, dropping to her belly before sitting up to look at Mikasa and take her lead.

For her part, Mikasa looked shocked. Annie would have laughed at her speechlessness if she weren’t in the same position.

“No days off. Not for a month.” Levi went to the door. “And stay away from my damn liquor cabinet,” he said before slamming the door.

Rosie shifted on the couch. Mikasa folded her arms uncomfortably.

“Shit,” Mikasa said. “Wanna spar?”

 

The black gloves on Annie’s fists were weighty. Mikasa’s red gloves shone off her hands like beacons.

“We’re gonna get in more trouble,” Annie said, not for the first time.

“Put in your mouthguard and quit worrying.”

“This thing isn’t used, is it?”

“What’s my uncle gonna do? Yell more? Go into more silences? You know it’d be my fault again. He won’t be mad at you.”

Annie shook her head. “Just kick my ass.”

Mikasa’s smile widened as she raised her arms. “Hit me with some jabs. I’ll block.”

The jab. A punch that extends the arm straight out, making it cover the shortest distance possible, quickly. Annie had been studying it with relentless hunger, drinking in both Levi’s and Mikasa’s motions at each demonstration.

But Annie hesitated now, even as Mikasa circled, arms raised. It was stupid to think that Mikasa wouldn’t defend herself fast enough, but lashing out at her felt wrong.

“I can take it, Annie. You know that,” Mikasa said. She feigned a jab that made Annie raise her arms and back off. Mikasa laughed. That did it for Annie. Her jab came flying at Mikasa’s midriff, blocked swiftly with Mikasa’s forearms.

“Don’t lower your arm before retracting it,” Mikasa said. “That’s a total waste. Keep it at the same high level, even when you’re done attacking.”

Annie knew that, hated that Mikasa had to remind her. How many Youtube videos had Annie watched where they’d said just that? Annie’s next jab came that much harder, no drop of the arm.

“Telegraphing. Majorly,” Mikasa said.

Annie stopped.

“Keep moving,” Mikasa ordered. “Always keep moving. When you pull back your arm for more power to your jab, that’s a waste again. Shows me what you’re about to do.”

Mikasa’s feet danced. She feigned punches at Annie, circled around, pushing Annie back and back and back ‘til she ran into a wall.

“You’d be in a ring,” Mikasa said, “in a real fight. Know where you are.”

Annie glared at her. If she could just land one honest hit…

The answer came through telegraphing. Mikasa was expecting jabs, especially when Annie reared her hand way back. She faked a telegraph of her right-hand jab, then came in close with a left hook to Mikasa’s face.

It worked a little too well. Much, much too well, given that it grazed Mikasa’s nose, causing her to drop to a knee, blood dripping onto her glove.

“Shit shit shit I’m sorry!” Annie said.

“You killed her. She’s gonna die now,” Rosie said somberly. She didn’t even get up from the couch. She was that accepting of Mikasa’s sudden demise.

Annie knelt, trying to get a look as Mikasa spat out her mouthguard, breath hitching.

“Ha! Annie…you bastard hahahaha!”

Mikasa lifted her face, smiling through the slick blood that ran from her nose.

Annie admired her then more than ever.

Mikasa stood and removed her gloves.

“No hiding this. Let’s go get grilled by my uncle.”

“Both of us? I thought I wouldn’t get in trouble.”

Mikasa shrugged. “I’ll do the talking.”

_No fucking sparring._ Levi had been more than clear on that point, one which Mikasa had goaded Annie into ignoring since day one. Finally, Annie had caved. As they entered the kitchen, Mikasa turned back to smile at her again, radiant in red.

“Uncle…” Mikasa said, Levi immediately standing and taking her by the chin.

“One damn rule,” he muttered. He turned to Annie. “Well? Get a towel.”

Annie scrambled through kitchen drawers ‘til she came up with a yellow dish towel. Levi pressed it to Mikasa’s nose.

“It doesn’t hurt much,” Mikasa’s muffled voice said.

“As if that means anything,” Levi replied. “We all know you’re a glutton for pain.”

Annie watched the cheery yellow of the towel soaking up Mikasa’s blood.

“I really doubt it’s broken,” Mikasa said. “She barely clipped me.”

Levi glanced at Annie, summing her up. “Pretty good to land a hit on an Ackerman. Even if it was this dumbass.”

“She fought dirty.”

“Regardless,” Levi said, “if you two even think about ditching once or doing stupid shit like this again, I’m through with you.”

“You won’t train us?” Mikasa said, jerking her head away from his hands.

“What, you’re planning on being truant again? On sparring with a total novice?”

“She’s not a total novice. She’s good! Really good!” Mikasa snapped.

Mikasa turned red, Annie’s face following suit. The admission that Annie was skilled was hardly an empty compliment coming from Mikasa.

“Not good enough to break it though,” Mikasa mumbled.

“Take care of it,” Levi said, stalking from the room.

Rosie groaned from the doorway to the garage, clinging to the door, half hidden.

“It’s okay, Ro. Mikasa, can I clean you up in the bathroom?”

Mikasa nodded, looking tired.

She sat Mikasa on the ledge of the sink, blotting with and bloodying clumps of toilet paper. She made her touch as gentle as possible, wincing whenever Mikasa did.

“So. Are you really a glutton for pain?” Annie asked.

“It’s not like I want it. I’m just…good at it. Physical pain is simple.”

Annie nodded. Neither of them brought up other, complex pains.

Mikasa’s nose looked nothing like Annie’s inflated, bruised nose from weeks ago. It was tinged red, maybe a little puffy. It didn’t dampen Mikasa’s spirit one bit. She was adept at standing up to her uncle. If anything, she was too good at that.

“You must think I’m a crazy bitch,” Mikasa said.

“You could give your uncle a break.” She would have said something last night, but it wasn’t the right time.

“I know. I’m just building a tower of grudges at this point.”

“Time to tear it down.”

Mikasa shrugged. “Anyway. I’ve kept you here long enough.”

Then Mikasa hopped down from the sink and held out her arms to Annie, who stood there awkwardly for just a moment before opening her own arms. Mikasa’s hug was gentle and lingering. Annie’s nose filled with the scent of acrid sweat, deodorant, and the sweet, soft-smelling perfume underlining it all. When they separated, Mikasa had a longing look in her eye, as if separating from Annie caused her pain. Annie had to be imagining that.

 

Annie hadn’t been able to ask Mikasa, face to face, to make her strong. Even coming up with something to say via text Mikasa was difficult. How could she possibly ask her for help?

Annie: hey Mikasa

Annie: I have some questions.

Mikasa Ackerman: ok?

Annie: how do I get strong like you?

Mikasa Ackerman: oh

Mikasa Ackerman: lol

Mikasa Ackerman: sorry I thought these would be bad questions

Annie didn’t know what she meant by “bad questions,” but Mikasa went on.

Mikasa Ackerman: I work out at school mostly.

Mikasa Ackerman: There’s the pool

Mikasa Ackerman: And the track

Mikasa Ackerman: And the weight room is okay

Mikasa Ackerman: We could do it together. After school before my place?

Annie: Sure. Thanks.

Annie’s heart pounded at the simple string of Mikasa’s words. More time together. Seeing Mikasa working out sounded pretty appealing, if she were being honest with herself. She felt creepy again but let the thought pass. New, alarming thoughts arrived in that thought’s stead, thoughts of gripping Mikasa’s bicep, feeling the raw power in her arms. Being held, even lifted. Easily. Annie slumped on the bed and groaned. She had it bad, didn’t she? And only dreams and incomplete drunken touchings to show for it.

While lying there, Mikasa texted her again.

Mikasa Ackerman: You’re gonna be HOT

Annie threw down her phone and laughed.

She wasn’t sure she could do this, be a whole new person. Could anyone? That question would only make her ask, who was she before? _A nobody,_ she thought, _becoming a somebody._ She didn’t know if someone could come from nothing. _A big bang,_ she thought. _Boom._ Or maybe it was something that happened slowly, like a star building up heat before it died. She thought that she could probably build up some heat in her life. It was only a matter of how much time she had, wasn’t it?

 

Monday morning, and Mikasa was already in Mr. Smith’s classroom, swinging her legs as she sat on a desk, talking to him.

“Well that’s good,” he said. “Speak of the devil.”

“What?” Annie felt like she’d fallen into a trap.

“We were just talking all about you,” Mikasa said with a wicked grin.

“Only good things,” Mr. Smith chimed in.

“Of course,” Annie said flatly. “Mikasa. Are we still doing that thing after school?”

“Yeah.”

Mr. Smith gasped. “A thing! A good thing?”

Annie glanced at him. “Secret thing.”

“Hmm.”

Mikasa clammed up when Hitch and her gang entered. The way they ignored the ex-cheer captain was pointed and deadly. Adding the ping pong tournament loss, Annie was sure Hitch had been plotting all weekend how to subtly destroy Mikasa.

Mikasa, for her part, acted unaffected as they went to sit down.

“Secret thing?” Mikasa asked her.

Annie shrugged. “Yeah. I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

Mikasa nodded. “Sure.”

When class started, Mikasa began passing notes, the first one saying that they’d begin with an “extra intense” cardio training right after school. Annie swallowed and glanced over at Mikasa. Instead of waiting for Annie to write a note, Mikasa wrote another.

The note was delicately folded, as always. Annie unwrapped it, knowing the gist of what it would say.

“Why does it bother you?” Mikasa had written.

Annie tried to write back, scribbling out her words and trying again and again, ‘til a new note arrived from Mikasa.

“It’s okay :),” it said.

“I mean, it’s really not,” Annie wrote back.

A note didn’t come for a long time, Annie not looking over at Mikasa until a new note arrived.

“Whatever,” it said. “It’s okay.”

They didn’t write anything to each other for the rest of class. When the bell sounded, they walked into the hall together. Hitch and Mina brushed past, Hannah coming and bumping into Mikasa without looking back to apologize.

Annie riled herself up, about to snap the cheerleader’s neck from behind, when Mikasa laid a gentle hand on Annie’s shoulder. The smile on her face was soft, amused. It was “what a dumbass,” “petty, huh?” and “who cares?”

Annie sighed. “Little shit.”

“They’ve done worse.”

“Like what?”

“Nothing worth mentioning.”

“And that’s you saying you won’t say.”

“Don’t worry about it, Annie. It’s like…my lab partner in AP chem is a cheerleader. Gives me the silent treatment while making me do all the work. I can handle it.”

“Okay.”

“It’s my problem, Annie. See you later.”

Mikasa turned down the hall.

_Yeah,_ Annie thought. _And it’s my fault._

 

In art class they were doing self-portraits. Petra took a picture of each of them and printed them out. Annie hated how she looked but was still glad she didn’t smile for the picture. Smiling would be disingenuous for her, she decided. It was weird staring at a picture of herself for so long, trying to get an outline of herself from her chin to her messy hair up top. By the end of class, she was glad to get away from herself.

 

They’d rejoined Jean and his group for lunches in the cafeteria. Annie arrived to see that Mikasa was there with Armin and Eren, chatting with Connie and Sasha.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” she said.

Connie and Sasha shared a sly glance, Connie saying, “You mean you don’t know what BOFA is?”

“Don’t answer that,” Annie said.

“What?”

“Don’t.”

“We nearly had her!” Sasha said.

Annie shook her head. “Some stupid joke.”

“Really stupid,” Armin said.

“I don’t get it,” Eren said. “What the hell is BOFA?”

Connie and Sasha looked at each other in elation and said in unison, “BOFA deeeeez nuts!” Those two were truly made for each other.

“Oh,” Eren said. “That _was_ pretty stupid.”

Mikasa didn’t laugh or even smile, instead looking to Annie with a very serious face. “Feeling better?” she asked.

“Uh…” She didn’t know if Mikasa was referring to her worry over getting strong or Hannah being an assface, but either way she had no desire to talk about it. Mikasa picked up on her hesitant cue and changed the topic.

“How was art class?”

Jean and Marco showed up. “It was good,” Jean said for her. “Self-portraits.”

“It was weird,” Annie said. “I don’t like looking at myself.”

Mikasa laughed. “Why not?”

“Dunno.”

“You don’t think you’re ugly, do you?” Mikasa asked with a frown.

“I…why would you think I think I’m ugly? Doesn’t that just prove my ugliness even more?”

Mikasa shook her head. “I think we’re thinking too hard here. You’re far from ugly, Annie.”

“Whatever.”

Mikasa had no idea how hard Annie was thinking. Was the “far from ugly” comment in line with the “pretty” comment after the sleepover? Getting compliments often washed an emotional nausea over Annie. Mikasa being the complimenter only inflamed things.

 

After an entire detention of silence, Hitch walked with Annie again. Not good. Especially when Hannah and Mina showed up.

“See you in gym, Annie. Basketball today,” Hitch said. Hannah laughed, and Mina shot a fleeting, worried glance at Annie.

She didn’t like the sound of this.

“Whatever,” Annie said, mentally bracing herself for whatever would happen.

The amount of cheerleaders in the locker room once again made the tension with Mikasa palpable. Annie recalled the last match of their ping pong tournament where most of the girls were cheering for Hitch and Mina, if not all of them. Annie’s eyes darted around the locker room. The girls milled about as they waited for everyone to get there. Annie walked up to Mikasa. She looked so calm, like nothing could bog her down.

“Hey. Ready for basketball?” Annie asked.

“What’s wrong?” Mikasa asked in a heartbeat.

Annie didn’t know, but she said, “Hitch was being weird. Something might happen.”

“Oh. Whatever it is, it’ll be fine. I won’t let them do anything to you, Annie.”

Annie nodded and gave a little smile. “Thanks,” she said.

When everyone was gathered, Hitch and Mikasa stood in front of the other girls. Every time they played a team sport, the class would nominate two girls as captains at the start of class. However, it was such a given that Hitch and Mikasa would lead, that usually they waived the process.

“I nominate Hitch as captain,” Hannah said, and she was seconded by almost everyone.

There was an awkward pause. Annie looked around. Conspiratorial glances flashed between the cheerleaders.

Though Annie had a bad feeling in her gut, she raised her hand, saying, “I nominate Mikasa.”

She was met with an overwhelming, cold silence.


	16. Cheat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Little did they know,” Annie whispered to her, “you like beating me.”

Annie was aware of her mouth being open as she stared at Mikasa. She turned her gaze finally on Hitch, gritting her teeth as she saw Hitch’s shit-eating grin. Mikasa shuffled her feet next to Hitch, then awkwardly moved through the girls to stand next to Annie. She faced forward as Hitch, and then the new captain Hannah, began picking teammates.

“Don’t say anything,” Mikasa whispered.

Annie could only nod. She listened to Hitch and Hannah, wanting to smack them both upside their stupid heads. Soon it was down to Annie and Mikasa. Hitch took Annie. Hannah took Mikasa. Last.

Everyone went to their lockers to dress, Annie in green, Mikasa in purple. So this was how it was. Not only was Mikasa not captain, she was picked last, and separated from Annie. The injustice of it all made her slam her locker shut. Mikasa didn’t look so happy either, leaving the locker room at a fast clip.

Shadis didn’t say anything when the captains stood in front of him, hardly giving a curious glance at Mikasa. The petty fights of hormonal teenaged girls didn’t concern him in the slightest.

It wasn’t like he had to explain the rules of basketball to anyone, so he told them to get in position and held the ball while the two captains faced off. He threw it in the air, Hitch and Hannah leaping, arms raised. Hitch got to it, flicking it back into Mina’s hands. She made her way down the court with ease, evading anyone in her path like a squirrel dodging a heard of bicyclists. She lined up to make her first shot when Mikasa appeared out of nowhere, blocking Mina so completely that she had to pass the ball off to someone else. She made her shot, and they watched as the ball sunk into the basket.

Mikasa walked past Annie as they made their way back to center court. As much as she knew Mikasa wanted to hide it, Annie saw the agitation in Mikasa’s eyes. There was nothing she could do about it though. Annie watched as Hitch took control of the game again. She dribbled the ball from hand to hand, going up against Hannah. She tried to pass the ball to another girl, but Mikasa was there once more and took the ball down court. Annie barely had time to stop her, but she leapt into action to gain possession and pass it off to Hitch. Why? She knew Mikasa would appreciate a friendly competition amidst the bullshit going on around her. Mikasa needed to be challenged. Who better to provide that challenge than Annie? With her assist, Hitch scored.

With helping Mikasa in mind, Annie got the ball in the next play, getting closer and closer to her goal. ‘Til Mikasa got on her. Annie was pleased. Mikasa seemed to have a light in her eyes, and Annie pivoted away, passing the ball on to Mina Annie watched with satisfaction as she scored.

6-0. Annie knew Mikasa would change that. She was proved right in an instant, Mikasa scoring a basket, then one more.

The rest of the game was basically Annie and Mikasa competing against one another, as if everyone else was gone, the scuffle of their feet and the bounce of the basketball on the hardwood the only sounds that mattered, next to the swish of the net. There was of course occasional interference from Hitch, Hannah, Mina, and others, but for the most part Annie and Mikasa got their hands on the ball as much as possible. When Annie stole the ball from Mikasa, she swore she saw a smile as she pivoted away.

By the end of class, Mikasa’s team—because while nominally it was Hannah’s team, everyone knew who the standout was—was winning by over a dozen points. Mostly, Annie was glad for it. This was exactly what Mikasa needed.

Class let out, Mikasa going ahead of Annie to the locker room.

“Hey,” Hannah said to Hitch. “You’re leaving practice early again?”

“Yeah. Busy,” Hitch said.

“I mean, I’d be fine with it if you told us why.”

“I have to do a thing. Sorry for having a life…”

Annie passed them up without a second thought, and clapped Mikasa on the back. “Nice work.”

Mikasa wiped some sweat from her face. “Thanks.”

“You’re okay now?”

Mikasa nodded with a smile. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Are we going to the weight room?”

“The track. Cardio, remember? And bring your swimsuit tomorrow. I got permission to use the pool.”

“Ah. Well, this is gonna suck.”

“Why?” Mikasa said with an amused smile tugging at her lips.

“My stamina’s not great. Keeping up with you on the court was one thing, but running for the sake of running? And your house isn’t at the finish line?”

“You gotta do it,” Mikasa said. “Build up strength in your heart.” She poked Annie in the sternum. “There’s no cheating in this. We need to put in the hard work.”

Annie blushed. “Okay. We going now?”

“Mmhmm.”

 

They dressed in jackets and leggings and headed out to the track. Mikasa started with some light stretching, naming the muscles in their legs: hamstrings, quads, abductors, and adductors. Annie wasn’t surprised that Mikasa immediately quizzed her on them. She almost passed. Then they sat on the cold ground to stretch their backs, Annie’s making a satisfying popping sound as she turned.

When they stood, Mikasa was bouncing on her feet in her familiar, eager way. “We’re gonna jog a half hour.”

“A half hour?” Annie repeated. She never thought she’d do that in her life, but here she was, running around like an idiot in the mornings, pushing herself to keep up with Mikasa, getting cardio and strength training whether she liked it or not.

“You can take breaks, but most of it will be jogging.”

They started off at a trot, Mikasa staying beside her. Then they got into a decent pace. After five minutes, Annie was panting. She looked over at Mikasa, her breath even, barely a drop of sweat gracing her lovely forehead.

“How are you doing this?” Annie asked.

Mikasa laughed. “I do this all the time.”

“I’ve been practicing…but I still…suck.”

Mikasa laughed. “Be patient. No cheating, remember?”

They were silent for a while. Then, Annie had to walk. Mikasa surprised her by walking with her.

“You can…go on without me, you know.”

“Nah. I have to make sure you start back up again. Besides, I enjoy your company.” She peeked at her watch, missing Annie’s alarm at the compliment. “You can walk for one minute.”

Annie walked as slow as she could to conserve energy. But it only made starting back up again worse, a heavy feeling weighing in her chest and lungs as she pushed herself back into jogging. Her throat was tight, her breathing desperate and uneven. She pushed herself to go another ten minutes, checking her watch frequently.

Mikasa slowed with her and checked her own watch. “Over halfway done!” she said, chipper.

“Fuck. I don’t know how you do this for fun.”

“I suspect if you didn’t complain every two seconds you’d be able to breathe better.”

Ouch. Annie huffed out a laugh. “Fine, fine. Can’t do this all the time, though. Don’t we already spend enough time together?”

“Are you saying we should see other people?”

Annie blushed, though her face was already red from the exertion. “Nah. I’ll keep you around.” She started jogging again. Her feet felt heavy. Her body was coated in sweat, which trickled down her back unpleasantly.

Somehow, Annie held out ‘til the end. What with the way Mikasa stayed steady next to her, she felt she had no choice in the matter and kept going. When Mikasa said they were done, Annie halted.

“Good work, Annie. I’m gonna give my backpack to my uncle so I can do a run back home. You can ride back with him, and I’ll see you there.”

“No. I’m running with you.” It came as much from a place of pride as it did from wanting to impress Mikasa.

Mikasa studied her. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I wanna do it,” Annie grumbled.

“Cute,” Mikasa said, Annie’s face burning all the way back to the school.

 

After Annie scored a three-point shot, Mikasa upped her game. She dribbled evasively, using fancy moves Annie had never seen her use before.

“Don’t tell me you Googled this shit last night,” Annie said, slapping the ball from Mikasa’s hand and taking it down the court. Mikasa came after her.

“Just because you’re not,” Mikasa snatched the ball back, “taking this as seriously as me…”

Mikasa ran the ball down the court, passing to Hitch.

Hitch. Who was barely paying attention, who fumbled the ball and got it stolen by Hannah.

She was unable to defend or shoot accurately. She had a vacant look in her eye that Annie was wary of. Not that it was Annie’s problem: Hitch was on Mikasa’s team, and it eventually won Annie the game.

Back in the locker room, Mikasa seemed miffed at their loss, changing clothes efficiently, her overall manner curt.

“The pool should be empty,” Mikasa said at last. “Got your swimsuit?”

“Yeah.”

 

They went to the pool’s locker room to change. Annie wondered, despite herself, if Mikasa would change in front of her. In the end, they both went into their own bathroom stall. Annie was glad she didn’t have to resist looking, but that all changed when Mikasa came out in her suit.

It was sleek and black with a hot pink vertical stripe. It hugged Mikasa, showing off the swell of her chest and—when she turned around—her awesome, perky butt.

Annie’s own suit was a plain dark blue. She felt embarrassed. Mikasa’s suit looked professional and sexy. Annie’s looked like she’d gotten hers out of some bargain bin. Probably not far from the truth when she really thought about it.

“Ready?” Mikasa said.

“Yeah.”

The pool was a small one, but the smell of chlorine hit hard like always. The quiet surface of the pool reflected the lights, the ceiling tiles, and Annie when she stood at the water’s edge. Mikasa had them warm up with a couple of laps, the water chilly enough for Annie to welcome the heat of movement. After the warm-up Mikasa explained stroke cycles—one cycle being the full rotation of one arm as it went through the water. “200 stroke cycles to start with, okay?”

Annie nodded. 200 didn’t sound intimidating. 100 twice. Anyone could do that.

She was wrong. By 50 she was more than willing to stop, but Mikasa was in the lane next to her and showed no sign of slowing. Resisting the temptation to stop, Annie pushed herself harder, passing by Mikasa a full body length. For a moment. Mikasa sped up devastatingly, got to the edge of the pool and flipped around with grace, getting way, way ahead of Annie. Annie turned with far less dignity and pushed off the pool wall. Mikasa was practically gone. And Annie had lost track of her stroke cycles. She stopped, treading water.

When Mikasa kicked off the opposite wall, she swam up to Annie.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was almost threatening.

“I lost track. So I stopped,” Annie said, regretting it already.

Mikasa shook her head. “You can’t just stop. It defeats the purpose of cardio. If you lost track, you should have waited for me to stop.”

“Sorry.”

“You have to race me.”

“Race you? I’d fucking lose.”

“I’ll keep an even pace, not my fastest. You compete against that.”

“Okay. What do I get if I win?”

“Glory,” Mikasa said with a serious face.

Annie laughed.

“Not many people get to say they’ve beaten me.”

“Oh, like today in basketball?”

“…Fuck off.” She splashed Annie and swam off to the end of the lane. Annie followed.

“But you’re not trying your best,” Annie said.

“But _you_ are.”

“Fine. I’ll race you.”

They got out of the pool so they could start with a dive. Mikasa counted off.

“Three. Two. One. Go!” Mikasa’s leap was sleek and aerodynamic. In comparison, Annie’s jump had the grace and effectiveness of a belly flop. She saw Mikasa already leading, her broad, strong strokes cutting a hard path through the water. Annie rotated her arms against the water’s resistance, cursing herself for not knowing breaststroke or freestyle or whatever she was doing. She had no technique. _Mikasa,_ she thought, _has the technique, the muscle, the speed._ But by the time Mikasa reached the wall, Annie was only a few strokes behind. They had decided on ten laps. If Annie could just move faster…

Mikasa did not slow. After the fifth lap, Annie had almost exhausted herself but was still close behind. By the seventh lap, Annie got something of a second wind. She managed to get next to Mikasa, ever so slightly behind her. Annie refused to slow her pace, same as Mikasa. In the end, Annie tried for a sprint, but the too fast movements threw her off, slowing her into something that was a tie with Mikasa.

Mikasa hooted. “Tie!” she said. She grinned at Annie. “That was really good. You almost made it.”

Annie panted. “Yeah…almost.” She got out of the pool.

“Don’t you want to cool down?” Mikasa asked.

“Nah. I think I’m done for the day.” She was feeling weird again. About Mikasa helping her in this. And seeing Mikasa in a swimsuit made her feel weird in all kinds of different ways. She needed some time alone.

Annie heard Mikasa getting out of the water behind her, her feet slapping the ground, her body dripping with water. A hand rested on Annie’s shoulder. She turned to see Mikasa frowning down at her.

“What’s wrong? Tell me.”

Annie shook her head jerkily. “I dunno.” She tried to get away, but Mikasa’s hold on her was strong.

“Come on,” Mikasa said. “You can tell me.”

“I don’t know,” Annie said. “I don’t like asking for help and…I don’t like idolizing you, trying to be like you.”

Mikasa laughed, but she seemed to know that she shouldn’t, so she covered it up with her hand. “It’s okay to ask for help. As for idolizing anyone, why not? I wouldn’t be who I am without that.”

Annie wondered who someone like Mikasa would look up to.

“Yeah,” Annie said. “But you’re you, and I’m so…weak.”

“You don’t get strong from nowhere. Everyone has to begin at weak. It’s just how it works.”

Annie stared down at their feet, Annie’s plain and pale, Mikasa’s with toes painted a dark green.

Mikasa pulled her into a hug, their wet bodies curving to each other, Annie’s head pretty much in Mikasa’s boobs. Again. She shut her eyes. This was as far as she’d get with Mikasa: friendly comforting and nothing more.

They separated. “Better?” Mikasa asked.

“Y-yeah,” Annie stammered out. She was sure she was blushing. Mikasa lifted Annie’s chin delicately.

“Buck up,” she said and let go.

Annie felt the electricity of that simple contact. That was something people did when they were gonna kiss someone else. That wasn’t what Mikasa was doing. Far from it.

“Let’s get dressed,” Mikasa said and pulled Annie from her thoughts. They grabbed some towels and dried off. “About fight club,” Mikasa said as they headed into their separate stalls. “I was thinking you could make the poster soon? And we could put them up sometime before the semester ends. We have plenty of time, but we should also start telling people about it. See if anyone at our lunch table wants to join.”

“Yeah,” Annie said. It was a good idea. They could probably reach at least one interested person. “Let’s ask tomorrow.”

“Can you imagine Connie and Sasha?”

“Yeah,” Annie laughed. “I’m afraid I can.”

“Weight room tomorrow,” Mikasa said. “And cardio on the treadmill.”

“Ugh.”

“You’ll be fine. And buff in no time.”

 

 _Buff in no time,_ Annie thought the next morning as she stared into her mirror. No difference so far. Not visibly. But she knew if she tried that she could jog around the track with less breaks. She got up early today, just so she could put her newfound endurance to the test. Opening the front door, she was hit with a blast of cold, the wind buffeting her face. She zipped her jacket higher and ran into the freezing air.

She pushed herself fast, faster than she’d ever run with Mikasa, farther than she’d ever sprinted, her muscles screaming for her to stop, her lungs aching for more and more oxygen. She breathed rapidly, wishing she had some technique to slow it down. Maybe she could ask Mikasa about that. But thinking about Mikasa—specifically her impossibly shaped body—made Annie want to quit: she knew it would take a long time, lots of blood, sweat, and tears to achieve anything close to what Mikasa had. So she pushed Mikasa from the forefront of her mind and began counting each time her feet hit the pavement. Annie lost track when she got into the hundreds. Then started over again. It was only when going further would take time from her shower and other before-school tasks that she turned around. The trip back was a little less impressive with Annie stopping to walk several times.

A long shower was indeed her reward, though she was keeping track of when she needed to get out. Long but not long enough, the shower ended, and Annie dressed. She wished once more that she could see the results in her reflection. Mostly, she felt them. She felt stronger, powerful, and in control. She dressed and had time to eat breakfast with Rosie.

“You seem happy,” Rosie said.

“I am happy,” she answered, humming as she chose a cereal box from the cabinet.

“Why?”

“Endorphins, perhaps.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Annie said. “Any big plans today?”

Rosie thought for a moment. “Tyler and I are eating lunch together.”

“Ah, so things are getting serious.” Annie poured her cereal into a bowl at the counter and was pleased to hear Rosie groan behind her.

“Why are people like this?” Rosie asked.

“So it’s just you and Tyler? What about your other friends?”

“Tyler doesn’t like them.”

“Oh?” That was weird. Rosie was friends with both boys and girls. And Tyler didn’t like any of them?

“Don’t ‘oh,’ Annie. He’s shy.”

“Shy,” Annie said. “Well, I’m glad he’s found a friend in you.” Truthfully, Annie was worried that a kid had to be outcast at such a young age. Was it the fault of the other kids? Or his? _No,_ Annie thought. _I shouldn’t think like that. He might just be a little different._

Annie set her food on the table and sat down.

Rosie immediately stood, taking her half-finished granola and yogurt with her.

“Where are you going?”

“I wanna eat this in my room!”

“…Okay.” Maybe this was Rosie’s way of saying she didn’t want to talk about her friend. Or her way of hiding it. Rather badly. Annie ate her breakfast alone.

 

Her morning went by quickly. By lunchtime, Mikasa and Annie were ready to tell their table about the fight club.

“So it’s everything?” Marco asked.

“Do we get to use nunchucks ?” Sasha asked in all seriousness.

“Yes, Marco, it’s everything,” Annie said. “And, no, Sasha. Unless we get a budget for it.”

“I will become club treasurer and fight for our right to nunchucks then!” Sasha declared.

“Someone’s gonna get hurt,” Connie said.

 “There are protective pads,” Mikasa said. “The ones we used in the weeklong fighting unit in gym class should do.”

“What if someone pulls an Annie?” Jean asked.

Annie glowered at him. “I just might pull one on you, smartass.”

Mikasa stepped in. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Accidents happen, but Hitch’s nose is mostly fine now.”

 _Mostly?_ Mikasa wasn’t being very diplomatic.

“You can’t even tell anything happened,” Annie said.

“Who’s our advisor?” Armin asked.

Mikasa hesitated, then said, “My uncle. He was a professional fighter.”

 _Almost,_ Annie thought, remembering that he was an amateur fighter on the way to the pros before Mikasa’s parents died.

“Your Uncle _Levi_?” Eren asked. He shared a look with Armin.

Maybe Annie shouldn’t have been surprised: Eren and Armin were good friends with Mikasa. It made sense that they’d know who he was.

“He was?” Jean asked. “What does that mean? What is he now?”

“He’s a janitor,” Mikasa said. She didn’t break eye contact with Jean. “You might know him.”

“Oh. Okay.”

There was a moment of silence where the others took in Mikasa’s words.

“So we have everything we need,” Connie said.

“You’re joining?” Annie asked.

“I wanna try,” Sasha said. There were murmurs of agreement.

Mikasa looked to Annie happily. Who knew that everyone at the table would give it a shot?

“We start next semester,” Annie said. “Tell your friends.”

 

Gym class saw Hitch and Mina as captains. They did the same song and dance of picking Mikasa last and splitting her up from Annie.

“Little did they know,” Annie whispered to her, “you like beating me.”

“Don’t roll over so quick.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Again, Hitch and Hannah squared off for possession of the ball. Hannah took control, moving down the court, ready to shoot when Hitch elbowed her.

“Foul,” Shadis called. It would have been nothing on its own, but Hitch didn’t apologize. In fact, she fouled again on Hannah during the freethrow, her aggression obvious, her frustration only increasing.

“What the hell is wrong with you today?” Hannah said.

“Just leave me alone. You’re…you’re in the way.”

Meanwhile, Mikasa brought in the points for Hannah’s team, Annie for Hitch’s. Soon both team captains were using Mikasa and Annie as chess pieces.

“Just stay on Hannah,” Hitch told Annie.

Sometimes, Hitch and Hannah interacting couldn’t be avoided. Near the end, with Hannah’s team winning by a landslide, Hitch knocked into Hannah, making her fall, her body sliding across the gym floor in a way that made Annie’s skin crawl and burn in sympathy.

Hannah huffed before she pushed herself up. She looked at the floor burn reddening her arm.

“What the fuck, Hitch?”

“Yeah, come on,” someone said.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Hitch blurted. Much like when Annie destroyed Hitch’s nose, the attacker fled the scene.

“I’m fine. Just…what the hell?” Hannah said to Mina, who shook her head, worried.

“Cheerleaders are nuts,” Annie said as she passed Mikasa.

The game ended with Hannah (and Mikasa) winning.

“Not a fair matchup,” Mikasa grumbled. “You lost your captain. I demand a rematch.”

Annie shrugged and smiled, used to Mikasa’s weird sore winning.

“Oh and I can’t come workout with you today. Art club,” Annie said, leaning her head against a locker and smiling.

“So pleased with yourself,” Mikasa mumbled. “My uncle’s gonna work me twice as hard. Though he’ll do the same to you tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it.”

Mikasa smiled to herself. “Good.”

 

“Heard you’re starting a club?” Ymir said as soon as Annie arrived in the art room.

“You hear things awfully fast,” Annie replied. “Been spying in the bathrooms again?”

Historia slapped Ymir on the arm. “Oh, will you get a hobby?”

“Bathroom spydom is very fulfilling!” Ymir said. “And what do you call this?” She gestured around the art room.

“You only joined this when I twisted your arm,” Historia said.

“Well, I’ll have you know that I wanna join fight club. Of my own volition.” She turned to Annie. “When is it?”

“Sometime after school. Next semester.”

“I’m gonna crack so many skulls,” Ymir said like a child on the cusp of Christmas.

“See,” Jean said. “I already got us another one.”

“So it wasn’t from bathroom spying?”

“Nah,” Jean said. “I told her.”

“I’m joining too,” Historia said.

“Are you sure?” Ymir asked. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Historia gave her a pointed look. “I won’t.”

“Alright,” Ymir said. “Fine.”

Petra arrived and returned Annie a stack of her own posters now emblazoned with the club information. It looked amazing. The others crowded around to get a look.

“Alright everyone,” Petra said. “I’m gonna quickly make copies of the rest of your posters, and we’ll hang them up everywhere we can find.”

Annie saw glimpses of the others’ posters as they passed them to Petra. They all looked good. Petra disappeared, and Jean picked up one of Annie’s posters.

“Nice,” he said.

The others agreed. Annie felt herself flush with half pride and half embarrassment.

“Thanks.”

When Petra came back with more, they went their separate ways armed with staplers and tape. Annie was decorating a hallway when Levi stopped by, dressed to go home it seemed.

“This is by you?” he asked.

“Uh…yes?”

He stared at the robot for a moment, then said, “Damn.”

“…Thanks.”

He left. The odd encounter reminded Annie to text Mikasa.

Annie: We got Historia and Ymir for fight club.

Mikasa: omg really!!

Mikasa: that’s like 10 people already.

Annie counted them up. She was right. Including themselves, it was ten prospective members.

Annie: We’re really doing this.

Mikasa: Yup!

Mikasa: Weight room tomorrow. I’m not gonna let you skip out for more than one day.

Annie: I ran this morning!

Mikasa: Sure

Annie: A lot. And in basketball. Wherein I schooled you???

Mikasa: Wherein??? You lost????????

Annie: Would have won

Annie: If it were just me and you

Mikasa: Blocked.

Annie: That’s right I DID block you from shooting. Multiple multiple times.

Mikasa: I didn’t raise you to be like this

Annie: Better than you? ;p

Mikasa: I have no son.

Annie: I’m putting up my posters. Your uncle likes them.

Mikasa: I have no uncle.

Annie: Ok

Once done with the posters, she went back to the art room, where the other club members were having a heated discussion.

“Don’t. Tell them,” Historia said.

“But it’s so juicy!” Ymir said, pleading like a child.

“What’s going on?” Annie asked.

“Ymir’s been snooping again,” Historia said.

“I’ve gathered some scintillating intel,” Ymir said with some degree of pride in her eyes.

“But she’s not going to tell you what she found.”

“Dissent in the upper ranks is inevitable,” Ymir went on.

“Ymir!”

“It’s only a matter of time…” Ymir said.

“’Til what?” Annie asked.

Ymir shrugged, smiling. “’Til something concerning Hitch—Oof!” Historia elbowed Ymir in the ribs. “—Happens,” Ymir finished. “That’s all I was gonna say, doll.”

Historia was less than pleased. “Too much,” she said.

“See how whipped I am?” Ymir asked the room. “Does anyone see?”

“So this thing,” Jean said. “With Hitch. It’s gonna happen? And everyone will know?”

“Signs point to yes,” Ymir said, grinning. She leaned in conspiratorially and said, “This is a gamechanger, my friends. Say goodbye to the queen while you have a chance.”

“That bad? Is she pregnant?” Annie asked.

“Mmmmaybe.”

“She’s not,” Historia said. “Don’t even.”

“Weeeell,” Ymir said.

“No,” Historia told them. “No.”

Annie didn’t know what to do with this non-information. Petra came back, and they moved on to a new project.

“Annie,” Petra said when club was over. “Stay a minute.”

“Okay…”

She tried not to look guilty (especially since she didn’t have any reason to feel that way).

Petra picked up a flyer of Annie’s.

“Nice lines,” she said, tracing a finger over the gundam. “Have you considered art school?”

“Huh?”

“Art school. College?”

“It’s…not like I could make a living.”

“Not with that attitude. You have something. In everything you draw. And you enjoy it. Right?”

“Yeah.”

She really did. As a kid she used to make her own manga, hiding in her room for hours, stapling the pages together, giving them to Rosie as gifts. When did that stop?

“So…” Petra said. “Try it out.”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll keep hounding you, Annie. Keep up the good work.”

When Annie went home, she threw herself into a series of push-ups. She was getting stronger. She was changing in a lot of ways. And she wouldn’t cheat. She’d do the work.

 _Art school,_ she thought. _Fight club…_

There was a wind of change in the air.

 

Annie walked down the hall to Mr. Smith’s classroom. She had gotten up exceptionally early and did her run, shower, and breakfast, and had found that she had nothing to do but walk to school.

Strangely, she heard voices coming from the room, ones she picked out to be Hitch’s along with Hannah’s boyfriend Franz.

“I have to,” he said. “It’s the right thing to do.”

“Oh, suddenly you’re worried about the right thing?”

“I’m her boyfriend.”

“And I’m her best friend,” Hitch yelled. “Please, let me.”

“You had your chance. You’d just say the wrong thing anyway. I’ll do it.”

“No. We can do it together.”

“That…I’m not into that. It’d be like we were ganging up on her.”

“Just…please don’t let her find out from someone else.”

“Maybe we don’t have to tell her,” Franz said. “If I just…I could say it’s…”

“Okay,” Hitch said quickly. “And then you and I can…”

“Maybe. Come here. I’m gonna make this alright.”

The unmistakable sound of kissing reached Annie’s ears.

Nope nope nope nope nope.

Annie turned and power-walked away, heart beating wildly. If this was what Ymir was talking about, Annie didn’t want to be in the middle of it. She hadn’t been paying any attention to that damn love triangle, and she wanted to keep it that way. She thought it had ended with Hannah happily dating Franz, Hitch glowering in the background. Then there was the chance they’d break up in a few months and Hitch could give it a go. But this…

“Hey!” Mikasa said from down the hall. “What’s up?”

Annie waited until she reached her and kept her voice low, eyes darting about. “I have no fucking idea. Well, actually…”

“Enlighten me,” Mikasa said curiously. “We can hide in the classroom.”

“Uh-uh. Bad bad idea.”

She looked around the deserted hall again and explained everything she knew.

“Oh, Hitch…” Mikasa said sadly, real concern in her voice.

“What do you care?”

“I’ve known her a long time, Annie. And while I haven’t always liked her, I think I understand her.”

“That makes one of us, I guess.”

 

During art class, Annie went into the bathroom, did her business, and was just about to open the stall door when she heard familiar voices entering.

“I don’t know what’s…happening,” Hannah said, hiccupping on her tears.

Annie made like Ymir and sat back down on the toilet, pulling her feet up so it looked like no one was in the stall.

“Hey, we’ll figure this out,” Mina said, patting her gently on the back.

“He says it’s over but…I don’t know what’s happening…”

 _The went ahead and did it,_ Annie thought.

Then, a voice that shocked Annie.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Hitch said. Her voice wavered. If Annie didn’t know any better, she’d say that worry was for her best friend. Hannah started crying, and the rustle of clothes told Annie she was leaning on Hitch’s shoulder.

She knew that Hitch cared about her friends, had been with them since junior high. Could love screw a person up that badly?

Annie got up, flushed the toilet again, and threw open the stall door. She stood there for a moment, glaring at Hitch, whose face sobered into fear and realization. Annie washed her hands as Mina quietly comforted Hannah. Through the mirror, Annie saw Hitch watching her.

It wasn’t like Annie would interfere. It was none of her business.

 

The rumor mill was turning, spewing its misinformation across the cafeteria.

“So Hannah broke up with Franz?” Connie asked.

“That’s right!” Sasha said.

Annie just shook her head.

“You know?” Jean asked.

All eyes turned to Annie. “No. I don’t know shit. Stop looking at me.”

“Give us the deets!” Sahsa said.

“Ymir told me they’d break up,” Jean said.

“But Annie _knows_ something,” Sasha said, leaning in. “Is it true that Mina slutted it up?”

“OH, JUICY!” Connie yelled.

“Mina? Stop it, okay? I don’t like talking about this stuff. I…it seems like you’ll know by the end of the week if you keep vulturing like this. You won’t learn it from me though. Alright?”

“Annie’s right,” Mikasa said. “Just let things play out. Gossiping like this…”

“Doesn’t do any good,” Annie grumbled.

 

Annie showed up to detention, but Mina was there, talking to Hitch in a low voice. “You did something, didn’t you? Why don’t you just tell her?”

“I’m such a…fucking monster,” Hitch said in a shaky voice. “Why do you—"

Then they noticed Annie gawking, and Hitch turned away.

“It doesn’t have to play out like this,” Mina said with a hand laid on Hitch’s shoulder. She left, and for the rest of detention, Annie tried to ignore Hitch wiping at her tears.

At the end of class, Annie walked to the locker room, surprised to find that Hitch walked with her, quiet.

“Don’t say anything,” Hitch said before they reached their destination.

“I’m not,” Annie replied.

The locker room was a flurry of whispers. They all stopped as soon as Annie walked in, Hitch with her, glancing around like a trapped animal. She went to her locker amid the awful staring silence.

Just before they were about to pick captains, Hannah walked in with Mina.

“Don’t,” Mina said quietly to Hannah, but Hannah strode across the room. And slapped Hitch across the face.

The girls erupted as Hitch burst into tears and fled the room. Hannah began to sob as well, comforted by Mina and a few other girls.

“So it’s true,” Annie heard someone whisper.

“Hitch fucked him?”

“ _Is_ fucking him.”

“No way.”

“You saw what just happened! You tell me.”

 _Oh, Hitch,_ Annie thought. _Ymir was right. This changes everything._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are quite nice. That said, I get it if you can't. No pressure.
> 
> Tumblr is **[Acerinky.](https://acerinky.tumblr.com)** Come and scream.
> 
> 'Til next week,
> 
> Rinky
> 
> (updates and talking happen in my **[Big Flag Fic](https://acerinky.tumblr.com/tagged/big-flag-fic/)** tumblr tag)
> 
> Important Note! (10/1/18) I've found it's not sustainable to go at a pace of a revised chapter update every Monday. Sit tight, guys. I'll update whenever the work and I are ready! **[Lengthy explanation here.](https://acerinky.tumblr.com/post/178641446517/progress-on-flag-fic)**


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